


when you love someone

by happilylarry



Series: Love Someone [1]
Category: One Direction
Genre: Angst, Bottom Louis, Fluff, M/M, Mob AU, Mpreg, Pregnant Louis, Top Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-03-06 01:20:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18840712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happilylarry/pseuds/happilylarry
Summary: Yes, I know what you're thinking. WHY on earth is she posting this when she's got other stories to update?! And I have no answer for you other than enjoy! This is short, probably bad, and unedited. I have no idea how any of the mob stuff works so this is probably mild in comparison to what really happens.Also, I believe I read the name Ultraviolent somewhere so if it was in a fic on here and you're the one who wrote it and have a problem with me using it, let me know ASAP so I can change it!Again, unedited.Again, enjoy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know what you're thinking. WHY on earth is she posting this when she's got other stories to update?! And I have no answer for you other than enjoy! This is short, probably bad, and unedited. I have no idea how any of the mob stuff works so this is probably mild in comparison to what really happens. 
> 
> Also, I believe I read the name Ultraviolent somewhere so if it was in a fic on here and you're the one who wrote it and have a problem with me using it, let me know ASAP so I can change it! 
> 
> Again, unedited. 
> 
> Again, enjoy.

The day started out like any other for Louis Tomlinson (hopefully soon-to-be-Styles). He woke up alone in bed, stretched himself out, and climbed out to get dressed. He tucked his feet into his shoes, ate a spot of breakfast, and went to find his boyfriend. He found his boyfriend, stepped around stacks of drugs, and sat right in Harry's lap and pouted. That got him a good morning kiss and a nice little arse-groping.

 

Zayn, one of Harry's men, was rubbing some cocaine across his gums to test it, scoffed from where he was seated across the dark room. "Really? It's too early for you two to start fucking."

 

Louis rolled his eyes and turned to Harry. He hooked his arms around Harry's neck. "When can I have your attention?" He pouted, knowing full well that Harry was weak to his pout. 

 

Harry squeezed his hands on Louis' cheeks and squinted. "You act as if I neglect you. The marks down my back would say otherwise."

 

Zayn gagged and Louis grinned.

 

"I want your time." He said.

 

"I give you plenty of time every night." Harry winked, and Louis groaned.

 

"That's not what I meant and you know it." He sniffed and stood from Harry's lap. "I demand more attention. Or you're not going to like what'll happen."

 

He turned on his heel, waved to Zayn, and was off, with a shout of "Be good" from Harry. It had only made him roll his eyes and give the drugs on the floor a pointed look. Harry stood up from his heavy oak desk, hand pressing his loose shirt to his chest, and pointed out the door. He left with a cackle.

 

After walking down a stone floor hallway, he appeared in the foyer and met Nick, one of Harry's lesser men. He rolled his eyes; a natural reflex whenever he saw Nick. 

 

"Nicholas." He sniffed, shrugging on a jacket. "Do I have the misfortune of you accompanying me this morning?"

 

Nick gave a God-awful snort and adjusted his ruby cuff links. Louis thought they were the most gaudy things he'd ever seen. "Not on your life, Tomlinson."

 

"You know, soon you'll have to call me Styles." He sang, pulling the wallet he'd taken from Harry's desk just moments earlier, when Harry was distracted with the arse-fondling, from his waistband and pulled out several credit cards and a stack of cash. He giggled internally. Harry was such a sucker for him.

 

Another snort, and this time, Louis looked at the fluffy haired, big nosed man. Nick was grinning, and it unsettled him.

 

"What?" He crossed his arms.

 

"You've been Harry's little toy for five years now. If he hasn't asked you to marry him by now, he's not going to at all." Nick clasped his hands in delight. Louis would love nothing more than to punch him square in the nose.

 

"Don't be jealous, Nicky." He narrowed his eyes and smiled sweetly. "It must be agony to see us so happy."

 

"If that's what you call it, sure. And I'm sure that if I went to the club and asked anyone else, they'd have the same answer as you." Nick winked and stepped back. "Harry keeps a lot of people happy."

 

"Fuck off." He bit back weakly. It was all he could say in return. Nick's words settled like rocks in the pit of his stomach.

 

Nick gave him a two-finger salute and headed down the hallway, out of sight. Louis sighed and dropped Harry's now-empty wallet onto the table in front of him and stuffed everything else into his own wallet.

 

"If it were anyone else stealing from me, they'd have to die." Harry said from behind him.

 

"If it were anyone else, you wouldn't let them suck your dick to get out of trouble." He replied, keeping his back to Harry. He was proud of the way he was able to push what Nick had said into the back of his mind. 

 

"What makes you so special?" Harry was closer this time, and when he said it, shivers went down Louis' spine. There went him ignoring it. Right out of the window. Fuck. 

 

"I'm not sure." He finally said, turning. "But when I find out, I'll let you know." He ducked past Harry and out the front door, where Greg, his personal driver, was waiting.

 

"Morning, Mr. Tomlinson." Greg greeted, opening the door. He slipped inside and settled into the buttery leather of the seat. He looked out of the tinted window and saw Harry in the open doorway, leaning there and staring. He looked so handsome in his sheer black shirt tucked into his tight black jeans. Louis mouth watered involuntarily.

 

"Where to?" Greg asked, looking back at him through the rear view mirror. It effectively brought him back into the present, and he turned to face Greg.

 

"The doctors office, on Ivy and Fourth." He instructed, buckling his seatbelt. Greg nodded, and they were off.

 

-

 

Doctor Smith waved her hand in front of Louis' face slowly. She looked worried, and glanced at the door.

 

"Mr. Styles, perhaps you'd like a moment alone?" She asked, standing. "I know this is quite the shock, and you do have options."

 

For the first time in twenty minutes, he blinked and looked at her. The _Mr. Styles_   she'd addressed him by threw him off for a moment. For some idiotic reason, he used Harry's last name, maybe thinking that he would start getting used to it being used in reference to him, or maybe he figured it would grant him anonymity, because no one knew who Harry Styles was by his Christian name. Either way, it send shivers down his spine but made nausea bubble in his stomach. Harry was going to kill him.

 

"Options?" He asked. His voice sounded distant, but at least he wasn't staring into the void anymore.

 

She nodded and sat back down. "Adoption, of course. We have several agencies we can refer you to, and there's abortion, but we urge you to look into adoption first. But any decision that you make, we stand behind you one hundred percent in support and discretion."

 

"Adoption." He repeated dumbly.

 

"Yes." She nodded slowly. Then, she leaned forward again. "Mr. Styles, do you need some water? You're very pale."

 

He blinked a few more times and leaned back. He looked at the monitor to his right. "Is that - ?" He pointed to the black and white screen, which held the ultrasound of his fourteen week old baby.

 

Dr. Smith nodded. "Yes. Would you like to take a picture?"

 

He nodded slowly. "Just one." He held up a single finger, just in case she didn't hear him. He wasn't sure he was speaking out loud. He couldn't hear a word he was saying, anyway. 

 

She printed it off and handed it to him slowly. "Are you okay to leave, Mr. Styles?" She asked. "Perhaps you'd like to speak to someone before you go? I know someone who is great at speaking to parents dealing with unwanted pregnancies."

 

He looked at her. "Unwanted?" He asked. "I don't...not want it."

 

"Oh, we have groups for that too." Dr. Smith said. She smiled. Finally, she got a reaction other than a blank stare out of her patient. "It's for couples who are surprised by pregnancy and don't know where to go from the news."

 

"No couples." Louis shook his head and sat forward once more. He was finally feeling like he wasn't going to faint. "My...the baby's father doesn't know. Can't know. He won't want it at all."

 

Harry would be so disappointed in him. He was supposed to take his birth control religiously, and he did. Or, maybe he didn't. He'd have to check the package when he got home. Sure, there were days when he'd accidentally miss one and take two the next day, or miss one and take it around or after midnight. His mind was so fuzzy that he couldn't remember anything.

 

Dr. Smith gave him a sympathetic look. "I understand. I'll give you the cards to the groups, just in case you change your mind." She sat and faced him again. "Now, down to the important stuff. Diet, weight, and baby's growth."

 

"You said I was fourteen weeks?" Louis suddenly remembered what she had said, before he went into a black fog. "That's pretty far along, isn't it?"

 

"Usually by fourteen weeks, you should know you are pregnant." Dr. Smith explained. "You felt no morning sickness or fatigue?"

 

He shook his head. "No, none." He almost wished he'd had. It would have given him a heads up. A little notice would have been nice, so he could think and make plans. Decide what to do. 

 

"That's quite amazing, and very lucky. It may just be genetics, but it's probably due to your diet and lifestyle. What is your diet like, and do you have a workout regime?"

 

"I eat pretty good, all the servings of fruits and vegetables and then some." He replied. "And I do yoga and pilates four times a week."

 

Dr. Smith nodded. "A healthy lifestyle before pregnancy is a benefit, no doubt. Just keep it up and you and the baby will be fine. Do you have any questions for me?"

 

He shook his head slowly. He was still in a bit of shock. Fourteen weeks pregnant and just finding out. How could he have not known? He kept up with his body, so he should have known something was off.

 

"Well, Mr. Styles, I'll schedule you for another appointment and have the receptionist confirm the details. You can leave your information with her." Dr. Smith offered him a smile and stood.

 

At the open door, he turned to her and took a deep breath. "Sorry if I seemed a little...gone in there." He apologized. "This is less than ideal."

 

"No need to apologize. You've had one of the better reactions I've seen. Be sure to grab a few informational pamphlets on your way out. They're great. And Mr. Styles? If you happen to change your mind about keeping it, we'll need to know within the next three weeks."

 

Louis nodded and made his way to the receptionist, and he made his next appointment. He grabbed a few pamphlets with corny titles, like Pregnancy and You: How Your Body Changes and Cravings: What's Good For You and Baby. He made sure to tuck them deep into his bag, where Harry would never see. But the ultrasound, he tucked that into his wallet carefully.

 

Greg was waiting for him outside, leaning against the parked car reading the newspaper. He closed it and opened Louis' door for him.

 

"Everything good?" He asked.

 

Louis nodded and slid in. "Perfect." He waited until Greg was seated in the front before answering. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

 

"That's always good." Greg hummed, looking back at Louis in the rear view mirror. There was something in his eyes that said he didn't believe a word Louis said, but he didn't say anything further. "Harry called while you were in with the doctor."

 

He glanced down at the phone in his hand. The screen had no new notifications. "I wonder why he didn't try to text me first."

 

Greg slowed to stop at an intersection. "He wanted to keep it a secret. I'm to take you to meet him for lunch."

 

"Really?" He perked up considerably after that. He settled back into the seat and smiled. He loved it when Harry took him out and spoiled him. He loved being showed off, draped on Harry's arm. "Did he say where?"

 

Greg shook his head. "I'm not to tell."

 

Louis shivered with anticipation. If Greg was under orders not to tell him where they were going, he knew it was going to be good. Harry was an excellent planner, and he spared no dime when it came to treating Louis. And Louis had no shame in taking advantage of it.

 

Ten minutes later, Greg pulled up to a posh little bistro with a red canopy and ivy climbing the building and a stone walkway. He stepped out and grinned. Harry had a thing for the little hole-in-the-wall, lesser known treasures the city had to offer.

 

"Thank you." Louis nodded to Greg, who winked at him.

 

"He's waiting inside." Greg said, closing the door behind Louis. "I'm not to wait, either."

 

Louis raised his eyebrows. "Well, have a good night Greg. Thank you."

 

Greg dipped his head and waved Louis off. Before entering the restaurant, Louis took a deep breath. He was going to have a lovely time with Harry and forget all about the baby and what Nick Grimshaw had said earlier.

 

Inside, he was greeted by tall potted plants on either side of the doorway and the sound of a trickling fountain. Not too shabby. He stepped around the corner and stood by the hostess stand and looked around for Harry. He finally spotted his lover in the corner, one leg sprawled out and arm resting on the top of the booth. He had a glass of scotch in front of him and was staring intently at a menu.

 

Louis stopped and stared for a bit. He was so in love with Harry and hoped that Harry felt the same. Why else would they be...doing whatever they had been doing for the past five years? Sure, they had met on his twenty-third birthday. He and his friends had went to Harry's club, where he caught the bright green eyes of the man staring at him from the VIP lounge. Harry had been seated legs out, bottom lip between two fingers, staring unabashedly at him.

 

All it took was one crook of Harry's finger and Louis was his. He had walked across the dance floor and when he got to Harry, he wanted to settle on his knees between Harry's open legs, but Harry had patted his lap, and it became Louis' seat from then on. He had straddled Harry and Harry had looked at him with such lust that it made his heart skip a few beats.

 

And now, five years later, Harry was still his, and he was still Harry's. He wanted to be Harry's forever, if the stubborn man would just ask him already. He was ready to have a shining rock on his middle finger and Harry's cock in him for the rest of his life.

 

He would have stood there and stared at Harry all day, but it was as if the man knew he was being watched, and he looked up. Perks of being a mobster, Louis guesses. Harry's resting bitch face quickly morphed into a cocky little grin when he spotted Louis. He stood, pressing his tie to his chest as he did so, and beckoned Louis to him. Again, all it took was one crook of this finger.

 

When he was standing in front of Harry, staring up at him, he inhaled. For the past five years, Harry's smell calmed him down. He blinked up at him slowly and reached forward to press his hands against Harry's chest.

 

"Baby." Harry murmured, pressing his lips to Louis' forehead. He knew it was one of Louis' favorite places to be kissed. Well, when they were in public anyway.

 

"Hi."

 

"You left me so abruptly this morning." Harry was displeased.

 

"Well, Nick was there, and I had a doctors appointment to get to." He said, going to slide into the booth, but Harry caught the crook his elbow and stopped him.

 

"Next to me, baby." He said, stepping back to allow Louis to slide in. When they were both seated comfortably, Harry made sure to wrap a hand around Louis' thigh and squeeze. "You've never let Nick being there bother you before."

 

He shrugged and picked up Harry's menu. "Well, he was especially annoying today." He sniffed. He'd never hid his distaste for Nick, but he's also never voiced it so openly before. Though they'd been...involved for five years, he knew he would be second to Harry's consigliere. Unless Nick absolutely tried to hurt him, Harry wouldn't do anything. It frustrated Louis so.

 

"What did he do?" Harry questioned.

 

Louis was about to answer but the waiter came by, and Harry's body stiffened and he turned so that he was completely facing the man next to their booth. He never liked it when people were behind him.

 

"How are we this afternoon?" The waiter offered a beaming smile. Louis saw the way he saw the expensive suit Harry was in, and the expensive watch around Harry's wrist, and knew he was going to get a big tip.

 

"I'm good," Harry answered. "And he's perfect."

 

Louis blushed and the waiter nodded. "Glad to hear it. Are we ready to order?"

 

"Actually, we need a few more minutes." Harry said dismissively. Thankfully, the waiter got the hint and nodded before scurrying away. When he was gone, Harry resumed his position pressed up against Louis.

 

"What are you getting?" Louis asked, eyes scanning the menu. He really didn't need Harry to answer. He knew that if there was ever steak scampi on a menu, Harry would order it.

 

"The steak scampi." Harry answered. "What are you getting, doll?"

 

He gave a one shoulder shrug. "Maybe I'll get what you're getting." He sighed.

 

"You don't like steak scampi." Harry reminded him. "Are you feeling alright, baby?"

 

He nodded and sat the menu back down. "Yes. I think I'm just tired." He answered. "Will you order for me?"

 

"I'll do anything for you." Harry said. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down Louis' spine. He knew Harry meant it, too.

 

He put his head on Harry's shoulder and closed his eyes. His body relaxed fully, and he felt that he could safely rest there with his eyes closed because Harry was there and Harry would do anything to protect him. He must have drifted off, because he only caught snippets of what Harry said when the waiter came back.

 

"-- steak scampi for me, and he'll have the salad and stuffed mushroom ravioli."

 

"And anything to drink?" The waiter asked. In his sleepy haze, he almost opened his eyes and said that he was pregnant and couldn't have alcohol, but thankfully he didn't, and thankfully Harry didn't order any.

 

"He likes lemon water." Harry answered. There was some shuffling and then Harry shifted ever so slightly. He felt Harry press a kiss to his head and his heart swelled with love. He nuzzled himself further into Harry.

 

"You are very tired, baby." Harry whispered. "You're going to go home and go straight to bed when we're done."

 

He murmured a no and shook his head. "Not tired." He sighed. He scrunched his nose when Harry laughed.

 

"Oh baby. You were never a good liar." Harry kissed the top of his head again and squeezed his thigh.

 

He took that as a challenge. "You always believe me when I say it was the best I've ever had." He couldn't help but giggle at the end. He knew he was being ornery, and he knew Harry would call him out on it.

 

Harry squeezed his thigh tighter and pressed his lips to Louis' ear. "I know for a fact that I'm the only you've ever had. You cannot lie to me, darling."

 

If only you knew, Louis thought. He could lie to Harry, and he would lie to Harry. He would do anything to keep his secret for as long as possible.

 

-

 

Surprisingly, eating lunch woke him up when usually it would make him more tired. He and Harry left the restaurant hand-in-hand, where Harry's driver was waiting. He wordlessly opened the door and tilted his hat to Louis, who slid in first.

 

"You never told me how your doctors appointment went." Harry said, making sure Louis was buckled up. "Do you like your new doctor?"

 

He nodded. "She's very adequate at what she does." He answered.

 

"Only the best for my baby." Harry nodded. "Everything good?"

 

He cleared his throat. "Yes. Everything is perfect." He hoped that Harry couldn't read his lie. This was the one thing he had to keep from Harry, at least until he figured out what he was going to do.

 

"Of course it's perfect, it's you." Harry said cheekily. The tone of his voice made Louis glance up at him. It was Harry's sex voice. It was the voice Harry used to butter him up so that he would let Harry bend him over any available surface. But he had a secret, one that Harry probably knew, but he didn't need a voice to let him let Harry fuck him. He'd let Harry fuck him any time, any day, anywhere.

 

"I have an idea." He said suddenly, turning to face Harry. "Let's fuck when we get home."

 

Harry cocked a brow. He wasn't uninterested, per say, and he knew Louis was not telling the truth about something. He could read Louis' body language, but didn't press any further. Instead, he stuck by what he said earlier.

 

"You're going to take a nap when we get home." He reminded Louis. As much as it pained him to say.

 

Louis pouted and put his hand on Harry's thigh, dangerously close to Harry's cock. "You'd really turn me down, Daddy?"

 

Harry's eyes darkened considerably. "Do not start something you can't finish."

 

He let his hand wander up, brushing the inner seam of Harry's jeans. "But I can finish it. We both know how well I can finish it."

 

Harry gripped his wrist, not tight enough to bruise, but tight enough to make his breath catch. Tight enough to make his eyes flutter. Tight enough to make him feel needed and owned.

 

"The answer is no, Louis."

 

Louis whined. It wasn't fair that Harry's voice was so deep and gravelly, and it melted over him like honey. Harry's voice could get him to do literally anything.

 

"But," Harry bargained. "I'll take a nap with you."

 

Louis thought about it for a split second. Harry's hands liked to wander when they slept. Would he feel how hard his stomach was? He wasn't showing yet, but there was a firmness to his stomach that wasn't there before. But then again, he could maybe pass it off as extra yoga. He could make up a bullshit story about working his core. He nodded and prayed that Harry would buy it.

 

-

 

Louis scowled and sipped his cranberry juice through a thin black straw as he stared daggers at Harry from across the club. _Ultraviolent_ was Harry's baby, the front for his less than desirable career of slinging drugs and weapons. With it's underground entrance and dark exterior, it was the perfect place to stay hidden.

 

Unfortunately, there were also a lot of hallways and rooms for Harry to do his work in, and Louis wasn't allowed in those rooms during 'business hours', as Harry liked to call it. He said it was because he didn't want to expose Louis to that side of him, the dark side that took lives and ruined them with no hesitation.

 

But Harry wasn't working tonight. He was networking, in his words, and it was making Louis very angry. If he saw one more person put their hand on Harry's chest flirtatiously or slip by him and press their bodies against his, he was going to lose his shit. Already he was making a mental note to have Harry murder the blond woman who kept touching his arm and twirling her extensions.

 

"See what I mean?" Nick sidled up beside him, clutching a glass of whisky. He leaned his elbows on the tall square table and stared at Harry. "He makes a lot of people happy."

 

Louis pulled the straw from his now-empty glass and chewed on it. "I'm in no mood to speak to you, Nicholas." He grouched.

 

"Because you now know I'm right." Nick was all smiles as he spoke. "Believe me, you're not the only person who keeps Harry company. Do you ever wonder why he never brings you?" Nick pointed a long finger across the club. "It's because of her, and her, and that dashing young gentleman to his left, and the waiter who keeps topping Harry's rum and coke off. You know..."

 

Louis couldn't help but sniff. Fucking hormones. Why were they making an appearance now? At Harry's fucking pretentious ass nightclub where half of the crime in northern London was fabricated. He wiped at his eyes and tossed the straw to the floor. With any luck, that desperate waiter would be the one cleaning the place later.

 

Nick paused and looked over. "Jesus Christ, Tomlinson." He straightened up and looked around. "I didn't think you'd fucking cry."

 

He wiped his face again and shook his head. "I'm not. I'm not crying." He couldn't even say it without more tears leaking out of his eyes. "Fuck."

 

Nick studied him. "You're not one to cry easily. Do you know something I don't?" Nick leaned in. He made jokes about Harry cheating on Louis simply because he didn't like the little twink. He thought Harry could do better, but even he couldn't explain if Harry cheated or not. All he knew was that Harry would make his way flirtatiously around the club and take people to the back office, the one he never did business in, and they would exit an hour or two later, all smiles.

 

"Fuck. Stop talking." Louis pleaded. He was thankful that they were in a dark corner. He'd be embarrassed otherwise. "I don't know anything."

 

Nick produced a cocktail napkin and handed it to Louis, who took it but didn't use it. God only knows where it was before it was stuffed in Nick's sweaty pocket. He balled it up in his hand and sniffled.

 

Nick narrowed his eyes. "You know something." He declared. He had a nose for sniffing those sort of things out. And Louis' silence spoke louder than the booming music in the background. Louis was hiding something, because he would have been across the club in seconds, sitting on Harry's lap or grabbing his dick, just to make a point.

 

Louis shook his head and looked anywhere but Nick. "No, I don't." He denied. "No, wait. I do know something. I know I'm sick of this fucking club. Call Greg, Nick. I'm going home."

 

He made to stand up but Nick grabbed his wrist. "Sit." Nick said. "Harry would have my head if I let you leave without him. Besides, Greg is off tonight."

 

"So call me a cab."

 

Nick laughed out loud at that one. "I'd surely be dead if I let you get into a cab. Now sit."

 

Louis sat, but only because he was tired. "Only because I'm tired." He announced, settling haughtily into the seat. He crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to glare over in Harry's direction. Harry was currently being charmed by a man trying to juggle two bottles of expensive vodka. He hoped the man would break a bottle on his head.

 

"Relax, Tomlinson." Nick said. He took the seat next to Louis, tired of standing against the table. "It's only one, you two will be home soon."

 

Louis rolled his eyes. "Only one. That's so stupid. I hate coming to this place. I hate Harry." He meant to mumble that last part, but Nick caught it and whistled lowly.

 

"Damn, Tomlinson." He cocked an eyebrow. "What do you know?"

 

"Stop asking me if I know anything." He snapped, finally facing Harry's second in command. "I don't know anything. I don't know why I'm fucking here when I could be in bed and I don't know why you're bothering me. And I don't know why Harry insists on keeping me around when he could have any one of the people currently trying to get in his pants. God knows he can have them."

 

He slid out of the chair and stormed off, pushing through the throngs of people. He found the spiral staircase that would lead him up and outside of the humid club. When he stepped out into the crisp London air, he inhaled deeply and threw his hand up, trying to catch a cab.

 

"Are you out of your mind?" Nick intercepted and knocked his hand out of the air. "You're lucky Harry didn't see you storm out."

 

He scoffed. "I'm surprised that he didn't have every goon of his follow me out." He eyed Nick pointedly. "I'm not scared of Harry."

 

"It sounds like you're not anything of Harry's." Nick pointed out. When Louis turned on his heel to walk down the street, he followed. He wasn't about to get killed because he let Louis out of his sight. "Now tell me what's going on, Tomlinson. Why don't you care if he - "

 

"Don't say it." Louis snapped. "Stop talking. I don't want to hear anything else."

 

"Is it that time of the month?" He cracked, and meant it to be funny, but stopped dead in his tracks when Louis stopped and buried his face in his hands.

 

"Fuck." Louis whispered. He was fucking crying again. "No, it's not that time of month. It won't be that time of month for a long time."

 

"What?" Nick was clueless. Then, he put the pieces together. The cranberry juice instead of Louis' usual sex on the beach, the emotional outbursts. He shook his head and backed away. "Fuck. No. Stop talking. Don't tell me anything."

 

Louis looked at him with such a pathetic face, tears streaking his cheeks and eyelashes clumped up. "I'm pregnant."

 

"Fuck!" Nick ran a hand through his hair. "Shut up. Why the fuck did you tell me that?!"

 

Louis shrugged weakly. His lower lip trembled.

 

Nick placed his hands on his hips and stared. "Does Harry know?"

 

Louis shook his head.

 

"Dammit, Tomlinson. Harry is literally going to kill me. Why did you tell me first?" He wanted to fall to his knees, but the sidewalk was dirty, so he settled for slumping against the brick wall of the building behind him. "He is literally going to kill me. I'm a dead man."

 

Louis wiped his face. "Don't be so dramatic. I'm not telling him."

 

Nick looked at him like he was crazy. "This is not something you can keep from him. If you don't tell him and someone else does, it's all over."

 

Louis glared at Nick through narrowed eyes. "Well, only you and my doctor know about this, and she isn't going to break the law to tell him. It won't be hard for me to find out who if Harry finds out."

 

"I'm not going to tell him, Jesus Christ." Nick sighed. He looked at Louis. "Are you really?"

 

Louis nodded miserably. "Fourteen weeks."

 

"And he doesn't suspect anything?" Nick glanced around, just to make sure there was no one who could overhear their conversation and tell Harry. His life would surely end right then and there if that happened.

 

"I don't think so." Louis said. "He's not going to want it, Nick. He'll make me get rid of it."

 

"No he won't." Nick tried to assure him. He tried to keep himself from making a face, because he was trying to sound convincing. He had no doubt in his mind that Harry would want Louis to get an abortion as soon as possible. Harry had never expressed an interest in children, and certainly wouldn't want any around his line of work.

 

Louis let out a bitter laugh and tilted his head up to the sky, shaking it. "You're the worst at reassurance. You don't even believe what you're saying." He let out a deep sigh and kicked at the ground. "You'll keep my secret?"

 

"I keep your secret, I'm dead. I tell Harry, I'm dead. I lose either way." Nick answered. He actually felt sorry for Louis at that point. He'd never really liked him, but even he could see that Louis didn't deserve this sort of turmoil.

 

Louis smiled. "Thanks. Who knew I could count on you?"

 

Nick shrugged and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Certainly not me. But if I go down, you're going down with me." He warned, and wasn't joking in the least bit, but Louis smiled anyway.

 

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Nick."

 

-

 

Turns out, keeping secrets from Harry is never a good idea. If Louis had actually sat down and thought everything through, he wouldn't have been stupid enough to hide something like a baby from Harry. He would have told him the truth.

 

But, he's not a rational thinker when he's experiencing a personal crisis, so he kept it hidden. He passed his firm stomach on vigorous spin classes and pilates, which he attended but sat in the corner, bullshitting with Jen, his personal instructor. Believe it or not, she was thankful for the two hour break she got four days a week. He bought prenatal vitamins and exchanged them with his regular vitamins.

 

He did everything but remember that he had an upcoming appointment, and he made the fatal mistake of having Harry answer his phone while he was in the bathroom shaving his legs. Normally he'd get his legs waxed but he'd been feeling so sensitive all over that he decided to just do it himself. He was rubbing lotion on them when Harry walked in, face void of emotion, phone to his ear.

 

"I see. I see." Harry was saying, and Louis frowned and looked over at him. He stood from the side of the tub and pulled his shorts down from where he'd pushed them up to shave his thighs.

 

"Well, Dr. Smith, let me stop you right there." He said, and Louis' heart stopped completely in his chest. He gasped involuntarily. His hands began to shake and he looked up at Harry, who was staring right into his soul, face still void. "We've decided not to keep the baby."

 

Louis's eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to speak, but Harry held a hand up and silenced him. He reached a shaky hand forward but retracted it after a few seconds. He instead pressed the pads of his fingers to his lips and waited, holding his breath.

 

"Yes. Of course. Tomorrow morning sounds perfect. Thank you." Harry pressed the end call button and lowered the phone, still staring at Louis. Eventually, his eyes wandered down Louis' body, lingering on the stomach that was covered with an oversized shirt.

 

"Harry - " He stepped forward, pleading, but Harry once again stopped him with a hand.

 

"Enough." Harry said. He sounded so calm and collected and Louis was shocked. "You heard what I said."

 

"Can we talk about it?" He pleaded, following Harry when the man left the bathroom. "Please? I want to explain - "

 

"No, you want to justify why you kept this secret from me." Harry said calmly, opening his closet door. He shrugged off his suit jacket and hung it up. "You'll want to wear something comfortable after the procedure. And you can't eat anything before, which should be easy as the appointment is scheduled for nine a.m."

 

"I'm not going to justify anything. I just found out - "

 

"You're fifteen weeks." Harry replied, closing the closet door. "There is nothing you can say that would make me believe that you haven't known for quite some time."

 

"There is!" He protested. He scrambled over to his nightstand and pilfered through it. He produced a worn copy of his favorite book and pulled the ultrasound picture from the pages. He'd stuffed it there to stare at while Harry slept. "Here, look. This is the very first picture. This is when I found out."

 

Harry didn't even glance at the little black and white picture, not even when Louis pressed it against his chest. He just stepped back and let it flutter to the floor.

 

"You should get some sleep." He instructed, turning to leave. "We'll leave an hour before."

 

Louis followed him out of the bedroom and down the carpeted hallway. "You're not even letting me speak. I want to explain things."

 

Harry trotted down the stairs as if he didn't have a care in the world, and Louis wanted to push him down. Instead, he gripped the banister tightly and followed.

 

"I've already figured out the solution to this problem. It'll all be over soon." He assured, heading towards the kitchen. He pushed the doors open and sauntered in, debating on whether or not he wanted to go out for dinner or order in.

 

"I don't want it to be over soon!" Louis shouted. "For fucks sake, stop walking away from me, and turn around and face me you coward!" He turned to the wine rack and grabbed the neck of a bottle of red. He threw it across the room, where it shattered against the wall. 

 

That caused Harry to stop dead in his tracks and swivel around quickly. "Are you fucking kidding?" He roared. Louis threw another one, white this time, and Harry narrowly missed it.

 

He advanced up Louis so quickly that Louis had to back up a few steps. But it was what he wanted. He wanted a reaction, he wanted a conversation or a fight or something.

 

"You're calling me a coward? You are calling me a coward?" Harry asked through clenched teeth. "You have the nerve to hide something like this from me and then get mad when I find out? How long were you planning on keeping it a secret? Eventually you's start to show, and then what?"

 

"I wasn't hiding it from you! I was waiting for the right moment." He defended himself weakly. "I was scared! I still am! I knew you didn't want kids but for fucks sake, Harry, I didn't get myself pregnant."

 

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So it's my fault?" He stepped back and chuckled. "Typical Louis. Blame everyone but yourself. You need to grow up."

 

He resisted the urge to stomp his foot, dammit, and watched with clenched fists as Harry turned and walked over to the kitchen island, where he stood with palms pressed against the marble, staring right back at Louis.

 

"I need to grow up? You're the one running from this problem. You don't even want to face something that you did. How pathetic is that? If only people knew what a fucking coward Harry Styles really was." He scoffed. He knew he was on thin ice, but he didn't care. In some sick, twisted way, he was glad he and Harry were arguing like this.

 

Harry's face darkened. His shoulders stiffened and his chin tilted defensively. He was now in fight mode. He fought hard and mean, with cutting words, but so did Louis.

 

"I have made the decision and that's final. If you know what's good for you, you'll do as I say." He warned.

 

Louis wanted to cry, he wanted to scream and yell, but he laughed hysterically instead. "I'll do as you say? What kind of relationship is this? In the five years we've been together, I've never had to be under your thumb. We were equal. We made decisions together, and now you're changing all of that because of a baby?"

 

"Surely you haven't forgotten that I fucking kill people for a living, Louis." Harry seethed. "Surely you haven't forgotten that I kill them right in this house. I traffic drugs and weapons. I have a hundred people on the streets doing illegal things. I have the police departments in my pocket. I have more enemies than I have friends. You want to raise a child in that environment?"

 

"Of course not." Louis said. "But -"

 

"But what? You think I'll stop because of a baby?" Harry's voice was condescending and it made Louis feel three feet small. "You think there is anything you could say or do that would make me change?"

 

Louis willed his eyes not to water but they did anyway. It was a terrible time to be hit with the hormones. "How can you say that? After everything we've been through?"

 

Harry tossed his head back and laughed cruelly. "Everything we've been through? The only thing worth mentioning is your university graduation, and that hardly counts as an accomplishment. What have you done with the degree that I paid for? By the way, how are all of those shopping sprees and vacations?"

 

Louis hastily wiped the few tears that had managed to escape off of his face and sniffled. "I don't understand why you're being so cruel. I just wanted to talk."

 

"No, you wanted to try to paint yourself as the saint you aren't and make me look bad." Harry shook his head. "You want to make yourself the victim and make me out to be the bad guy."

 

"I've never done that. I just want an explanation as to why you don't want this baby. I thought that maybe it would..." He stopped himself from talking by biting his lip. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the ground.

 

"That maybe it would what? Make me quit the life I'm living and whisk you off to a house in the countryside and have child after child with you? That I would marry you?"

 

Louis' head snapped up at that, and Harry's eyes grew wide. Louis thought that maybe he'd gotten to him, but then Harry laughed again and simultaneously broke Louis' heart.

 

"You thought I was going to marry you?" Harry asked. He was being so unnecessarily cruel that Louis wondered what he ever saw in the man. He'd never seen this side of Harry before and it made him sick to his stomach. "What have I done in the past five years to indicate that I would ever want to get married?" 

 

"No." He answered weakly, wiping once more at his eyes.

 

Harry cleared his throat and clenched his jaw. "Is this why you got pregnant?" His voice was dangerously low and it made Louis feel uneasy.

 

"No!" He shook his head. His lower lip was trembling uncontrollably and he wanted to crawl into bed and sob his eyes out. "For the last time, I didn't do this on purpose. I wish you would just understand that."

 

Harry was quiet for several deafening moments, Then, he spoke, and smashed the remaining pieces of Louis' heart while doing so.

 

"I think you'd better go up to bed. I can't look at you, let alone speak to you. Greg will drive you to the appointment and bring you back afterwards. We'll figure out what to do then."

 

A little sob escaped him and he nodded and turned to leave. He didn't point out the fact that wasn't even six o'clock yet, and that he hadn't eaten. It would be pointless, so he went. He was drained of energy and gripped the banister as he climbed the stairs again.

 

He paused at the doorway to their bedroom. Was he allowed to sleep there? Or would Harry prefer him to sleep in the guest room? The couch in the den? Or should he just pack a bag and go stay at a hotel?

 

In the end, he curled up on his side of their bed. If he was going to be broken up with and kicked out tomorrow, he wanted to sleep once last time with the scent of Harry next to him.

 

-

 

Harry sat in his office, dark only except his dim desk light, and swallowed his third glass of whisky. Sadly enough, it was the only comfort he could find after what happened an hour ago. He really should take it easy, but he had a high alcohol tolerance and wanted to give Louis time to fall asleep before he went upstairs.

 

A knock on his door made him look up, ready to yell at whoever it was. It ended up being Ed, his financial advisor. Ed was one of the very few people that he trusted around his money. Louis was another, but that was a story for another time.

 

"You busy?" Ed asked, holding a few folders to his chest.

 

Despite him wanting to be alone, Harry nodded. He might as well get whatever Ed wanted over with. He sat his empty glass down and crossed his ankles underneath his desk, watching Ed shuffle in, closing the door behind him.

 

"I hope it's important." He said, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

 

"It is." Ed sat down across from Harry and placed the folders on the table. "Let me start off with some good news, you've suffered no loss for the past six months, which is tricky because you don't work in trades, you stick to strictly selling."

 

Harry nodded.

 

"The highest area of profit for you would be the weapons, which you're currently trafficking into Canada, Germany, Russia, and China." Ed pulled a sheet of paper with numbers and graphs on it and showed Harry. "Now, listen. I think we could turn an even bigger profit if we expand into...trafficking."

 

Harry cocked an eyebrow. "Trafficking? I already traffic weapons and drugs. I know you're not suggesting something else."

 

Ed hesitated, licking his lips. "I know you've been against it for the past five years, but I almost had you convinced once. It would make quite a bit of money."

 

Ah yes, Ed had almost convinced him once, five years and some months ago. He was just about to look into it when he met Louis. Enigmatic, ethereal, complex, delicate, beautiful Louis, who was having a complete meltdown inside of a department store, staring at the men's watches, clutching a Starbucks cup and sobbing while pretending to look at the expensive watches in front of him.

 

It had turned out that his application to university was accepted but he didn't have the money to go, and his job at Starbucks, which had explained the sticky cup, just wasn't enough to pay for it. Harry had drawn that information out of him and decided right then and there that he would buy anything for the boy, so long as he didn't ever have to see him cry again.

 

He had paid for Louis' schooling - which came with a sticky hug and a sobbing boy in his arms - and everything that came with it. He showered the boy in all sorts of things, simply because Louis had no desire in his money. He couldn't care less, all he wanted was Harry, and they'd been hot and heavy since the beginning.

 

He was slow to introduce Louis to his line of work, and gave him an out afterwards. But Louis surprised him and stayed, claiming "I love you. Nothing can make that change". After that, Harry knew Louis was all in and could be trusted. Well, until Louis caught word of how Harry might delve into the human trafficking world. Then, he was livid. He locked himself and Harry in Harry's office and screamed and screamed at him.

 

Drugs, he could tolerate. Weapons, no big deal. But trafficking actual humans, who had been ripped away from their families and sold like livestock? Absolutely not. He threatened to leave Harry, he threatened to burn his house and warehouses down, he threatened to go to the police. Harry, of course, had shut him up with a hand clasping his throat.

 

He'd pushed Louis against the wall and got so close to Louis that his nose was touching Louis' cheek. He whispered filth into the boys ear and took him right there, against the wall of his office. He'd rocked into Louis' warm little body and pressed his lips to Louis' ear, promising that he wouldn't dare do something that upset his favorite boy so.

 

After he'd milked two orgasms from Louis and came deep within him, he walked them over and sat in his plush desk chair. Louis had curled up on his lap and pressed kisses to Harry's throat. They were so in love and nothing could change that.

 

"Harry?" Ed snapped his fingers in front of Harry's face, noticing the glazed look in his bosses eyes.

 

"Hm?" Harry looked up at his friend, and when he realized he'd been lost in his own thoughts. "Oh. No. Absolutely not."

 

Ed sighed but nodded. He knew better than to argue with Harry. "Okay. Your call." He shuffled some papers and handed a stack over to Harry. "These are for your files. I know you like copies."

 

"I do." He liked to read over them, late at night, to make sure everything was well and accounted for. He took the papers and slid them in his top desk drawer. He didn't let his gaze linger on the photo of Louis he had taped there. He put the papers on top of it and slammed it shut. "Is there anything else? I have more pressing matters to attend to."

 

Ed looked baffled, blinked twice, and shook his head. "Nope. Everything else can wait."

 

Harry nodded. "Good. Thank you, Ed." He stood and watched his friend go quietly, closing the door behind him. When Ed was gone, he sat back down in the seat and sighed heavily. He rubbed his temples and relaxed into the seat.

 

What was he to do now? The clock was just brushing seven-thirty. It had been an hour and a half since he and Louis had fought, and he was drained emotionally and physically. He hated fighting with his boy. The words he spat always left a burn in his throat and a sour taste in his mouth.

 

The only thing worse than fighting with Louis was the fact that this time, he couldn't go and apologize. Louis wouldn't be coming to knock on his office door, begging to curl up on his lap. It would be awkward between them.

 

He wished he could just order a pizza and surprise Louis with it. But he couldn't. He just couldn't swallow his damn pride. So, he sat down and poured another drink.

 

-

 

The next morning, well, afternoon, Harry picked his slumped self off of his desk, rubbed his cheek, and freshened himself up in his office's bathroom before stepping out into the land of the living. It was a quiet walk to the kitchen, where Greg was pouring himself a cup of coffee.

 

"Mr. Styles." Greg nodded and stepped back, allowing Harry to pour his own cup. They stood in silence for a bit, Harry blinking to wake himself up, hoping the coffee would help do that and ease the mild hangover he had.

 

He noticed the time on the large antique clock hanging on the wall. Louis had fallen in love with it and Harry spent way too much money on it, but Louis' smile was all worth it.

 

Greg must have noticed, because he spoke up. "Mr. Tomlinson left about an hour or so ago. He had an appointment." He finished his coffee and sat the cup in the sink.

 

Harry furrowed his brow. "Really? He's leaving again? What sort of appointment did he have?" After their fight, he looked up abortion aftercare. Louis really was supposed to take it easy for two or three days after the procedure. Running around wouldn't help him at all.

 

Greg finished his coffee and sat his mug in the sink. "I believe he had an appointment for a facial. He claims it's good to have a facial after hot yoga."

 

Harry hummed into his mug, and then processed what Greg had just revealed. "Hot yoga?" He faced Greg. "That was his appointment this morning?"

 

Greg nodded. "Yes. I took him to the studio around ten, and then to his facial appointment around eleven-thirty." He looked at his watch. "And then I'm to pick him up at one, for a late lunch with a friend."

 

Harry ignored the anger churning in his gut and nodded. "Thank you, Greg." He said dismissively, and thankfully, Louis' driver took the hint and left the kitchen. He allowed himself to seethe for a few more minutes before placing his own cup of coffee into the sink.

 

Then, he grabbed his phone and made some calls.

 

-

 

Harry strolled into the restaurant that Louis was meeting his friend at and took off his sunglasses. He leaned against the host's stand and stuffed a few notes into the man's suit jacket pocket.

 

"When this person comes in," He tapped his finger against the name Niall Horan, "Tell him that the reservation was pushed back half an hour and that he can wait at the bar. He drinks for free today."

 

The host nodded wordlessly, a little scared.

 

"And when this person comes in," He tapped his finger against Louis' name. "Seat him immediately. I will be waiting at that table. He is not to know I'm here. Understood?"

 

Again, the host nodded and swallowed audibly. "Yes, sir." His voice broke, and he cleared his throat and grabbed a menu. "Follow me."

 

Harry stepped through the ivy covered archway and followed the nervous waiter to the very back of the restaurant. He sat and ordered a glass of bourbon and waited. He only had to wait ten minutes before he heard the clearing of the waiters throat once more, getting closer to where he sat.

 

Louis rounded the corner and his face didn't change one bit when he saw Harry. He thanked the waiter and tossed his bag onto the seat next to his.

 

"I can't say I didn't expect this." He said, seating himself across from Harry. He looked positively ravishing in a white shirt and black yoga pants. If he were in a better mood, Harry might have found it distracting.

 

"You anticipated I'd be here?" Harry questioned, leaning back and crossing his arms.

 

Louis shook his head and opened his menu. He spoke as he scanned the pages. "Where's Niall? I trust you didn't kill him?"

 

"I'm wounded." Harry replied monotonously. "Give me more credit than that. I don't go around killing people."

 

Louis cut his eyes up at Harry. He said nothing.

 

"You missed your appointment." Harry continued speaking. kicked one pinstripe-covered leg out from underneath the table to stretch it out.

 

Louis sniffed. "Yes, I cancelled it."

 

"Why."

 

"Because I don't quite feel like getting an abortion." Louis replied, looking at Harry. "Call me crazy."

 

Harry narrowed his eyes and stared at Louis. The boy was simply unbothered by that fact, and was content to ignore the problem between them. It infuriated him to no end, and he clenched his jaw.

 

"Louis." He said darkly. It was the tone he used when he'd absolutely had enough of Louis' shenanigans. It was the tone he used when there was no room for discussion. It was the tone that told Louis that his word was final and what he wanted to happen would happen.

 

As usual, Louis looked at him again. But he fought his nature to stop everything he was doing and give Harry his undivided attention. He was being stubborn and trying to assert his own dominance.

 

"Harry?" Louis asked lightly, and he was just being ornery. He knew it bothered Harry.

 

Harry leaned across the table and captured Louis' wrist in his hand. He squeezed it but not tightly, and kept it in his grasp. "Louis." He repeated. "We are taking care of this problem."

 

Louis' brows furrowed ever so slightly. "What problem?"

 

He gave another warning squeeze. "The problem that is going to ruin our lives."

 

Louis stared back at him, and for a moment, he thought he was getting through. But then, Louis jerked his hand away and tucked it underneath the table. He looked livid.

 

"This problem isn't ruining my life. In fact, I feel so much better knowing I'm pregnant with your baby." Louis shrugged. To make his point, he rubbed at his tummy through the shirt. He only slightly grinned at the darkening of Harry's eyes.

 

It was game on, then. And Harry played dirty. He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

 

"And how do I know this baby is mine?" He asked. He knew it was a low-blow. He knew how insecure Louis was about their relationship, and he never fully trusted Harry. "I've never gotten any of.... _them_ pregnant."

 

Louis clenched his jaw and inhaled sharply. "How fortunate for you. You'd lose your entire fortune to child support payments." He hummed, bite in his voice. He turned a page of his menu and read the dessert selection. "I'd wish you the best of luck, of course." 

 

Harry chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. "You'd need it. After all, I'd need your help raising it." 

 

Louis glanced up. "Oh, you're assuming that I'd stay." He giggled. "I wouldn't, FYI." 

 

Harry slammed his fist on the table and glanced around. Thankfully, the very few people were smart enough to mind their own business. "Five years, nothing. And then, all of a sudden, you're overly suspicious of me at the club and now you're pregnant." He tugged at his jacket sleeve and raised an eyebrow. "Interesting how that happens."

 

At that, Louis rolled his eyes. He was mad as hell, Harry could tell. "You never used a condom with me and I was on the pill. It's easy to miss a day." He reached forward and closed his menu with a snap. "I hope you had the decency to wear protection with - " He cut himself off sharply, nostrils flaring.

 

"With?" Harry asked, bemused.

 

"The other people you fuck." Louis pushed his chair back and grabbed his bag. "I hope you have enough respect for me not to fuck other people unprotected when I'm the one you come home to every night."

 

Harry simply gave a one-shouldered shrug. "If you insist on keeping this...pregnancy, then there should be no secrets between us."

 

That caught Louis' attention, and he raised a single, perfectly arched brow. "Oh? Why stop there?" He asked sweetly, his voice dripping with honey. "Let's just get everyone involved in our relationship. Your staff, the people at the club, the police..."

 

Harry stiffened. He'd managed to stay under the radar, with only one arrest that resulted in an all-too long five days in a holding cell. It was the least he could do, seeing as how he'd padded the police departments pockets with the threat of death if they didn't forget he existed. But, protocol was protocol, and he knew if he was to be brought up to them, he'd be in handcuffs.

 

"You go to the police, and you'll get nowhere." He said.

 

Louis just shrugged again and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Did I say police department? Maybe I meant the DEA? The M16?"

 

Those were big, dangerous names he was throwing around, and Harry's eyes darkened to a frightening level. His jaw ticked and his eyes narrowed.

 

"You go to them, and you'll be dead." Harry warned.

 

"You'd kill the mother of your child?" Louis tutted. He stood up. "How sad. I'm predicting this baby will have your eyes. I just hope they won't be a piece of shit like you."

 

And with that, he stormed out of the restaurant. Harry saw him pull his phone from his back pocket, presumably texting the friend he was going to meet. Harry waited until Louis was out of the restaurant before standing and straightening his jacket. He nodded to the host, who still looked scared of of his mind, stepped outside, and got into the waiting car.

 

"Home." He said to his driver. "I have something to take care of."

 

-

 

Louis was packing when shit hit the fan. Actually, he was stacking his packed bags into the hall closet, bitching to Nick about Harry, when shit hit the fan. Nick, bless his heart, was listening and nodding at all the right moments.

 

"I just have to leave, Nick." He said, shutting the hall closet door. "He's been sleeping with other people and had the nerve to ask if the baby is his."

 

Nick nodded. He was careful to say anything, afraid that Harry would hear, or someone else would hear and tell Harry. "I can't imagine what you must be thinking." He settled on. "But is leaving the only option?"

 

Louis sighed. "I want to stay. I want to marry Harry and have his babies and move into a house in the country, where our babies can ride horses and learn to ride their bikes in the big, brick courtyard, and where I could stand with Harry in front of the big picture window while the snow falls, with our babies in the back, laughing and playing with each other. And that's just not going to happen."

 

"How do you know?" Was all Nick could say. Again, he was careful to say things that wouldn't incriminate himself. He was just trying to be helpful. As much as he disliked Louis, he was unsettled by the amount of heartbreak he saw in Louis' eyes.

 

Louis shrugged. "I just know. Harry kills people. He traffics weapons and drugs and probably has money stashed in barrels somewhere in the ocean. He fucks everyone he sees and doesn't have time for monogamy. He's strung me along for five fucking years. I'm nothing special and we're going nowhere."

 

"Don't say that." Nick said. "I'm sure you mean more. Harry is just reserved. He doesn't trust just anyone, you know."

 

"Obviously he doesn't trust me." Louis planted his hands on his hips. "How can he accuse me of getting pregnant to take his money? I don't want his money. I just want his last name."

 

Nick nodded, and opened his mouth to speak, but a hard pounding on the door interrupted him. He gave Louis a confused look before opening the door. Outside stood several armed M16 officers. Nick was immediately pushed against the wall and handcuffed while several of them pushed past Louis and ran into the house.

 

Louis swiveled around and faced the stone-faced agent walking into the house. "Where's your warrant?" He asked hysterically. His heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were shaking. His body felt weak.

 

The officer handed the warrant over and Louis scanned it quickly. Oh God. Harry was going to be arrested. Their house was going to be searched. He turned around. He was going to run to Harry's office, to warn him or kiss him, do whatever he could do, but two other agents were leading Harry down the hallway, handcuffed.

 

"Oh God." He said breathlessly. He stepped in front of them. "Harry, oh my God." He put his hands on Harry's face, sure that Harry could feel his hands shaking. "Why are you arresting him?" He asked the agent.

 

The stone faced agent who'd handed him the warrant spoke up. "Anonymous tip."

 

"Why aren't you arresting me, then?" He asked the officer. "I'm here too!"

 

"Your name isn't in the warrant, is it?" The man growled. Harry's nose twitched ever so slightly. He had a big problem with people speaking to Louis like that.

 

Tears leaked out of Louis' eyes and he faced Harry again. "I'll bail you out, Harry. I'll be right behind you. I'll - I'll figure out who did this, who the anonymous tipper was. I'll - " He looked into Harry's angry eyes and flaring nostrils and paused. His breathing got shallower and his vision spotted.

 

"Harry, you - wait. You don't think that - me? Harry, I would never." His voice was begging Harry to believe him. "God, I would never. I love you. I love you so much." More tears were leaking out of his eyes, and he was sure he looked like a hysterical mess. A gross, hysterical mess.

 

He looked over at the officer, who had one hand curled around Harry's bicep. "What's he being arrested for?"

 

The officer said nothing, and Harry said nothing, but he didn't take his eyes off of Louis.

 

"Harry, I'll come and bail you out. Wait a minute, I'll follow you to the station." He promised, letting his palms rest on Harry's chest. He lifted one hand to wipe at his messy face. "Let me - let me call Greg. We'll be right behind you."

 

He let out a breath of relief when Harry leaned forward. He turned his ear, waiting for Harry to accept his offer or to say that he loved Louis too, but that didn't happen. Instead, he got an angry Harry. An unforgiving Harry.

 

"When I make bail," Harry whispered, voice quiet enough that no one else could hear. "You are dead."

 

Harry was pulled away and then they were marching him outside. Louis followed, heart in his stomach and bare feet on the marble steps outside. There were a few squad cars outside, lights blinking through the night. He was glad they had the decency to turn off the sirens.

 

He put a hand on his stomach and had to turn away when Harry was shoved inside the back of the police vehicle. He was going to throw up or faint. When the cars pulled out of their circle drive, he rushed down a few steps, but for what? He couldn't possibly chase the squad cars. And what good would it do him?

 

He turned and went back inside to find his cell phone, ignoring the several other agents inside, searching the house. When he located it, he paused. Who would he call? Nick was arrested, as was Harry, and Harry's financial adviser, who happened to be there too. He had no one that he could tell. Not even his best friend, Niall, knew what Harry was.

 

"Excuse me," He asked a woman who was flipping the cushions off of the sofa in their den. "Why wasn't I arrested?"

 

She didn't stop flipping, but answered. "I don't know, sir. You weren't in the arrest warrant."

 

He nodded and walked back out to the foyer, clutching his phone. He sniffled, rolling his eyes helplessly when he felt tears welling up. God, was now the time to cry? No, but he was pregnant. Every moment was a time to cry.

 

He supported himself against the wall in the foyer, clutching his cell phone. What was he going to do?

 

 

-

 

"Styles, let's cut to the chase." Officer Russell was seated across from Harry in the little interrogation room, arms crossed. He'd been questioning Harry for an hour straight and the man had said nothing. He just sat there, face impassive.

 

Russell sighed and leaned forward. "I know why you're here, and you know why you're here."

 

Harry leaned forward too, an obvious tactic to assert dominance over the agent. "No, I don't believe I know why I'm here. Why don't you go ahead and tell me."

 

Russell stared at Harry. "I told your partner already. Anonymous tip."

 

Harry chuckled. "Anonymous tip." He repeated. "Tell me, did that anonymous tip ask you that question tonight?"

 

Russell looked at Harry in interest now. They were finally getting somewhere. "You think he tipped us off? Why's that?"

 

Again, Harry was silent.

 

"Should we have arrested him, too? One call to the people tossing your house right now and he'll be in cuffs and here in ten minutes." Russell watched Harry, searching for any ticks or tells. So, his partner was his tell. Interesting.

 

Harry's face darkened considerably and he leaned forward. "If anyone touches him, they're dead. Understand?"

 

Russell smirked. "Interesting. Tell me, if you're so protective over him, why do you think he's the one who tipped us off?"

 

Harry leaned back and kept his lips sealed. He was quiet once more. He was roaring mad at Louis, wanting to choke the life out of him, but the thought of Louis being there, in their house while people were tossing all of their things to the floor, having completely disregard for everything, watching as his whole house was destroyed, made his chest tight.

 

They sat there in silence until there was a knock on the two-way window. Russell gave him one last glare before standing up. He made sure to shut the door tightly behind him and turned to greet the officer who arrested Nick Grimshaw.

 

"What do you have, Smith?" He asked gruffly. He was eager to get back inside and question Harry some more. Now that he knew what Harry's tell was, he could draw more information out of him.

 

Smith sighed and shook his head. "Nothing. They found nothing at Styles' house. Phone records are normal, bank account is legit. Nothing in his business reports show any sign of criminal activity."

 

Russell frowned and looked at Harry through the window. "Damn. Are you sure?"

 

Smith nodded. "Captain says to keep them here overnight but not to charge them with anything. They're free to go tomorrow at six."

 

Russell nodded and scrubbed a hand down his face. "Fuck." He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at Harry through the window. "Fuck. Nothing?"

 

Smith shook his head. He was upset, too. But Harry Styles covered his tracks damn good. He would never allow himself to get caught.

 

Finally, Russell, turned to Smith. "Put him in the same cell as Grimshaw. Might as well keep tabs on them, see if they talk about anything incriminating. I won't be here tomorrow when they're released, but have them followed for the twenty-four hours after they leave."

 

Smith nodded. "You got it."

 

-

 

Louis wiped his nose and pushed the door to the police station open. He approached the front desk nervously. The officer glanced up at him, looking bored and tired. And he couldn't blame him, either. It was nearing midnight.

 

"Can I help you?" The officer asked, shuffling some papers. A phone rang and rang in the distance.

 

He sat his hands on the desk and nodded. "I'm here about Harry Styles?"

 

The officer didn't look up. He used a pen to point to a row of chairs. "Have a seat. Another officer will be with you shortly."

 

He nodded and sat where directed. He fiddled nervously with the hem of the sweater he was wearing and glanced around. He was about to ask about Harry again when someone else entered. He looked up and nearly choked.

 

"Harley?" He asked, standing.

 

Harley was an employee at Harry's club, a dancer, and Louis didn't like him one bit. He was always all over Harry, flirting and touching. He wasn't too terribly bad looking, either, which sucked even more. He was a little taller than Louis, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes that seemed to glow underneath the club lights. In other words, he was a complete threat to Louis. Harry never made Louis feel better about it, either. He never assured Louis that he was the only one for him. He just sucked up all the attention he could get at the club.

 

Harley turned and blinked. His eyes were still coated with a light dusting of gold shadow. So, he'd just been at work.

 

"Louis," He greeted.

 

"What are you doing here?" He asked. "Was the club searched too?"

 

"No." Harley answered. "But they wouldn't find anything anyway."

 

Right. Louis knew that. "So what are you doing here?" He cleared his throat. "Did Harry call you?"

 

Harley looked him up and down. "Yes." He finally answered, a little snarky. "He did."

 

Louis blinked. "Really?" His heart sunk a little. Thankfully his eyes didn't water. The last thing he wanted was for Harley to see him crying. All it would do was fuel Harley's sick fantasy of ending up with Harry.

 

Harley nodded slowly and bit his lip. "What are you doing here?" He smirked a little. "Since Harry used his one phone call on me..."

 

Digging down deep, Louis found a bit of courage and squared his shoulders. "I don't know why I'm here, honestly. I'm obviously not needed." He ignored Harley's grin and left the station, breathing in the warm night air. Now, he could allow himself to cry. He sniffled as he ordered an Uber and was sobbing by the time it pulled up. By the time he got home, he was back to sniffling, a headache pressing at his temples.

 

He entered the dark, empty, messy house and stood in the doorway to the den. The room was in complete disarray. He was torn between cleaning up the mess and sitting down on the floor to cry some more.

 

He ended up doing neither, choosing to go upstairs instead. He crawled into their bed and curled up on Harry's side. The smell comforted him and lulled him into a restless sleep.

 

-

 

At six am, Harry, Nick, and Ed walked down the concrete steps in front of the police station and to the waiting car Harry had. It was Louis' driver, Greg, and he looked nervous, but he greeted them with what he thought to be a sincere smile.

 

"Mr. Styles," He nodded. "Grimshaw, Sheeran."

 

"Greg," Harry addressed, crossing his arms. The sun was peeking up over the buildings and taking away the little nip in the air. "What are you doing here?"

 

Greg frowned. "You didn't tell Mr. Tomlinson to have me pick you up?"

 

Harry shook his head slowly. "No. I did not." He answered. His jaw involuntarily clenched, as it did when Louis did something suspicious or ornery. But usually, the jaw clenching was preventing him from smiling, and was followed by a nasty little romp in the sheets. But this time, the clenching didn't go away. He was unsettled by Greg's facial expression.

 

Greg rubbed his hands together. "He was very insistent. Said I had to be here at six on the dot."

 

Beside Harry, Nick coughed nervously into his fist. Harry turned to him.

 

"What do you know?" He asked quietly.

 

Nick looked at him in poorly disguised surprise. "What do you mean?"

 

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Grimshaw, I've just spent the past twelve hours in a holding cell. And I've spent the past six years with you as my closest ally. I've learned every single tell of yours, every nervous tic. Don't make me question the trust I've had in you. What do you know?"

 

Nick glanced at Ed, who was looking anywhere but him. Ed wasn't very comfortable with confrontation.

 

"I don't know anything, Harry. You're being - "

 

"I'm being what?" Harry demanded. "Paranoid? Let me tell you something, Grimshaw, when it comes to Louis, I don't play games."

 

Nick couldn't help but snort, and he didn't try to cover it up. "On the contrary, Boss. What do you call the last five years?"

 

"None of your business, that's what. Now drop it before you piss me off." Harry growled.

 

Nick scoffed, and Harry was getting sick and tired of his noises.

 

"The fuck is your problem?" He faced Nick full on, ready to have a fight in front of the police station. Ed stepped back and crawled into the car, ready to go home and shower the last twelve hours off of him. If they didn't get arrested again because of Harry.

 

Nick chose to instead ignore the question, fueling the fire even more. "If this was your reception to the pregnancy, no wonder he packed his stuff."

 

"Oh shit." Ed whispered, tucking himself against the opposite window. He was bracing for a full blown fight, but instead had to strain to hear what Harry said next. It was so low that he almost missed it.

 

"What?"

 

"You heard me." Nick said, crossing his arms.

 

Harry was several for quite some time, and Ed peered out to see what was happening. Just to make sure Nick and Harry weren't silently choking each other to death. They weren't, thank God, but they were glaring daggers at each other. Boy, if looks could kill...

 

Just when he thought Harry wasn't going to speak anymore, and Nick would drop the whole subject, and Greg could drive them all home, Harry spoke up. He listened with a drawn breath. He had to be very quiet, because Harry spoke so lowly he was afraid he'd miss it. Unfortunately, he wished he had missed it. The slow, heartbroken tone of Harry's voice made his own stomach ache.

 

"You knew?" Harry asked Nick. His voice told Ed what he couldn't see; that Harry had lost the will to fight any longer. "How long have you known?"

 

Nick let out a long, drawn out sigh. He had given up as well. "Awhile. He told me at the club one night."

 

"I see." Harry noted. "You knew before me, then."

 

"Yes." Nick wasted no time in saying. But the way he admitted it was malicious. He said it like he wasn't proud that he knew before Harry, his closest friend and boss.

 

"I see." Harry said again. "We'd better get going. Figure out why Louis sent Greg to pick us up."

 

Nick slid in beside Ed, and Harry sat in the front, which was unusual, but Nick and Ed both understood. Their boss was unusually quiet, glancing out the window. The whole entire car ride back to Harry's was quiet. No one dared say a word, and when Greg parked, they all exited quietly. Ed made his way briskly to his car, sighing in relief when Harry didn't call him back. Now he could finally go home and shower and sleep.

 

Meanwhile, Nick and Harry walked up the stone steps, followed by Greg, who was working up the courage to ask for the rest of the day off. Harry reached for the handle of the large wooden door and pulled on it, but it was locked.

 

He was confused. Louis never locked the doors if he was home. That bugged Harry to death, and he was always getting onto him for not locking it. He looked back at Greg, who shrugged.

 

"He was here when I left, sir." Greg stated. "Maybe he went out with his friend?"

 

Harry pulled his own key from his pocket and unlocked the door. The house was quiet and dark.

 

"Nick." Harry slid his jacket off and busied himself hanging it on the coat rack. He didn't bother to look at Nick. "Go fetch me Louis."

 

"Uh, I don't think that's necessary." Nick said from behind him.

 

"What do you mean?" Harry turned, frowning. He looked to where Nick was pointing. There was a letter addressed to Harry and a set of keys - Louis' keys. He walked over and picked the letter up.

 

"Do you want us to - " Nick began.

 

"Go." Harry demanded. He waited until Nick and Greg were gone before he opened the letter.

 

_Harry,_

_I want you to know that this is the hardest thing I have ever done. I could barely zip my suitcase because I wanted to put everything back into my closet and stay. But I couldn't. It's not the pregnancy. Well, that's not the main reason I'm leaving. I'm sure we could have made things work and you would have loved this baby more than anything like I do. I'm leaving because I cannot be pregnant with your baby and be alone. Our baby and I cannot share you with others. You are the man of my dreams but I deserve more than to sit around while you're at your club, sharing your attention with everyone but me. You claim to love me but do little to show it. It breaks my heart to question your love for me. I was almost ready to forgive everything and live in a loveless relationship, with a child you would hate, but when you were arrested last night, you accused me of being the one to tip off the police. After everything I've done for you, endured for you, you thought it was me. I thought I had your trust but I was mistaken._

_I would never do anything to betray you, and I wish you knew that. I made good on my promise to come and see you, to bail you out, but Harley was there. I can't believe you called him, of all people, to come and get you. You know how I feel about him but you must not care. That was the last straw for me. I know now that you didn't care about me. You never cared, or else we'd be married._

_If I had my way, we'd be married, and have a house in the countryside, with a farm, where our children could run and play all day and curl up with us in the evening, next to the roaring fire. If I had my way, you would have abandoned doing what you're doing and realized that one day it could put us all in danger._

_But until you learn that, I have to leave. I have to think of this baby now, and they deserve more than what you had to offer us. Please, don't look for me. I do not want to be found. I know you'll ignore that part when you discover what I've done._

_Please be good. I love you so much._

_xoxo, Louis_

 

Attached was an ultrasound picture, with the words fourteen weeks written to the side of the little blurry baby. He tucked it back with the folded letter and sat them both down. He would focus on the small details later, but at the moment, he had more pressing matters.

 

"Boss," Nick rushed down the hallway, hand in his hair. "Louis isn't here."

 

Harry nodded slowly. "I know."

 

Nick slowed to a stop and looked confused. He and Greg shared a look.

 

"So...what?" Nick asked.

 

Harry fiddled with the hem of his shirt, straightening it nonchalantly. He knew they were probably concerned, staring at him, waiting to see what his next move would be. He was wildly unpredictable, so he understood.

 

"Well, Nick, Greg." He addressed them both. "We find him."

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

one month later

 

Louis closed the door with his foot and made sure to lock it behind him. His new apartment was in a nice neighborhood, so he wasn't worried about that. He was paranoid, and had been ever since he left London. He felt that he was being followed around every corner, and always checked his locks three times before going to sleep at night. Fucking Harry. It was stressing him out big time.

 

He carried his grocery bags into the kitchen and sat them on the island. He took a moment to look out of the window above the sink. He was in awe of the view everyday. He had moved to The Netherlands, and everyday thankful that he'd chosen such a beautiful place. Amsterdam was gorgeous, and it would be the perfect place to raise his child.

 

He sighed and rubbed a hand on his belly. He was almost nineteen weeks, and so far, everything was going smoothly. Everything was good, his weight was perfect, but the paranoia was causing stress, which could cause problems. His doctor suggested something to help, so he started taking walks along the canal every evening, and he started a journal for Harry. He was planning on mailing it to the man later on. Much later.

 

He stepped away from the window - and the picturesque view - and put all of his groceries away. He was starting to have cravings, nothing crazy, but he liked to have all sorts of things on hand, just in case.

 

As he closed his refrigerator door, he wished he had Harry with him, someone to make the late night craving runs for him, or rub his feet, or back. To tell him that everything was going to be okay and that they were in it together.

 

A wave of inspiration hit him, and he hurried to the cozy living room and curled up on the couch. It was positioned to look out of the window, giving him a spectacular view of the city. He grabbed his notebook and began writing.

 

_Harry,_

_I'm almost nineteen weeks pregnant. It's so exciting, yet nerve-wracking. The doctor says everything is okay, but I guess everything that's happened has me stressed out. She says that I need to calm down, so I've taken to walking in the evenings and writing this. I hope to some day give it to you. Well, mail it to you. I know if I saw you in person, my resolve would crumble like a poorly constructed house of cards. I want so badly to hate you, but something is keeping me from fully resenting you. Maybe it's the baby? It's hard to hate the person who you've spent five years with. The person who got you pregnant. And then I remember that you don't want this baby, and that you've cheated on me so many times, and that you've strung me along for five years with no promise of a future. And then it gets easier to hate you._

_Anyway, I don't want this journal to be all about you and your mistakes. This is supposed to be about our baby, who is doing fabulously, like I said. I'm just starting to show, which is exciting. If I wear my shirts, they'll be tight around the middle. But before I left, I stole some of your shirts, and they hide my belly. I think the baby likes it when I wear your shirts. I don't know why I think that. Maybe it's because I'm a little happier when I wear them._

_My doctor says it'll be a small baby, so I think they'll take after me. Although, I'd love to have them take after you. Tall, green eyes, curly hair. They'd be magnificent. I already love them so much, Harry. You have no idea how much I love them. Maybe some day, if you meet them, you will too._

 

_Xoxo Louis_

 

He sat the pen down and closed the journal. That was all he had the energy to write. Some of his previous entries were pages long, especially in the days after he'd left, and then the week he settled in his apartment. It was a scary and exciting time, and especially lonely as well. But he was doing whatever he had to do for his baby. He grew up with broken families, and he wasn't about to have his child experience the same.

 

He tucked the pen and journal in the drawer of the table next to the couch and sighed. He was a little hungry, craving something he didn't have in his fridge. He was craving fish and chips, and he didn't know of any shops in Amsterdam that sold them. He hadn't made his way all around yet. Maybe he'd get lucky and find one that reminded him of home.

 

Maybe, while he was out, he'd finally break and figure out a way to get a cell phone without automatically popping up on the radar Harry inevitably had. He wondered when he first left if Harry would search for him, to kill him. His paranoia told him yes, but the little sliver of rationality that would peek out told him no, Harry was not searching the ends of the earth to have murder him.

 

Even though those were the last words Harry had said to him.

 

And he'd sounded pretty serious.

 

Louis swallowed and tucked a hand under the little swell of his belly. Damn. It was going to be a long four months.

 

-

 

"Still nothing." Liam sighed and leaned back in his desk chair, crossing his hands behind his head. "He's not done anything. No bank account, no credit cards, he's not even registered for any magazine subscriptions."

 

Across the room, Harry cursed under his breath and pinched his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. He was staring out the window, something he'd started doing three days after Louis had left. He would stand there and brood, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed. He was sure he looked absolutely frightening, and rightfully so. He'd run off most of the help, with a handful of cleaning help, Greg, and one chef left to deal with his mood swings.

 

"Look harder." He demanded. Rain pelted against the windowpane, fitting for his mood. Since Louis had left, it seemed that London had been facing dark and gloomy weather.

 

Appropriate.

 

When Louis left, it was like he'd taken the fucking sun with him. He'd taken the light out of London, and the life out of Harry's house. No longer did it feel like a home, but a shell of what used to be.

 

"Harry, I'm telling you. He's too smart to put himself out there. He's known you for five years. You don't think he's learned anything in those years?" Liam questioned, standing to stretch. Harry had him on the computer all day and night, searching endlessly for something that would lead him to Louis.

 

Harry looked over, finally. "He's bound to make a mistake."

 

Liam shook his head. "I don't know. It's been a month, Harry. Fucks sake, he didn't even leave a paper trail when he left, and I'm assuming he left the country. If he bought a plane ticket, even with cash, we'd be able to tell. I can hack into airport security systems, and I did. He wasn't at any airport in the three days after he left."

 

Again, Harry cursed. "I'm not going to ask again, Liam. Find him."

 

He gave his friend a good glare before turning on his heel, leaving the room, slamming the door behind him. He knew the sound reverberated and probably sent the remaining staff scattering. He didn't care. Let them scatter, hell, let them all leave. He didn't need any of them and he sure as hell didn't want them around. There was only one person who could fill the void he was experiencing, and that person had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth.

 

-

 

Louis tossed his trash in the bin and wiped his hands on his jeans. Not his proudest moment, but he had found a fish and chips shop and it was delicious. It was a little hole in the wall, right near the canal, and it reminded him so much of London he had to pause before ordering seconds, afraid he'd cry.

 

He'd eaten his second serving on a bench, right near the canal, watching as the boats drifted up and down the calm water. He people-watched, smiling at the tourists who were taking a hundred pictures, probably for Instagram. He watched the ducks and the happy couples and felt truly happy for a few moments. And then, he saw someone with curly hair and long legs and it reminded him so much of Harry that his heart actually stopped in his chest and he froze.

 

It wasn't Harry. Of course it wasn't, but for a brief second, he thought it was. And that was enough to get him off of the bench and up the same path he walked every night. And, on a whim, he ducked into an electronics shop. He got the overwhelming urge to buy a phone and call Harry.

 

It wasn't until after he was leaving the store, a bag in one hand and his new phone in the other, that he realized that maybe he'd made a mistake. Surely Harry would find him by his phone number. He was sure Harry was exhausting every possible option, searching the depths of the web to find him.

 

He slowed in front of his apartment building, biting his lip. It wasn't too late to chuck it into the canal, but even if he did that, the damage was still done. It wouldn't erase his number, it would only get rid of his phone. And, he was kind of bored. And he missed his social media accounts, even though he knew he couldn't get on them again, once again for fear that Harry would find him.

 

He made a quick decision and tucked his phone into his pocket before ducking into the apartment building. He took the elevator to the third floor and stepped off, waiting until he was safely in his apartment before pulling out his phone again.

 

He sat the bag down in the kitchen and made himself comfortable while he waited for some tea to boil. With his elbows leaning on the counter, he set up his new phone. The first app he downloaded was a pregnancy app and he put his information in, smiling when it told him that his baby was the size of a mango and he should be feeling it kick soon.

 

The kettle whistled and he poured the hot water over a teabag, stirring it around as he aimlessly scrolled through suggested apps, sad that he couldn't download social media. His finger itched to download Instagram and log into his old account. Harry would never see that he logged in. All he had to do was make sure to not like or post anything. With his thumb hovering over the download button, he took a deep breath and pressed it.

 

He shifted from one foot to the other as he logged in, and he immediately went to Harry's account. The man hadn't posted anything in the month that Louis had left, and it pleased him and made him sad at the same time. If there was anything Harry loved, it was posting obscure, artsy pictures on Instagram.

 

He let himself scroll for a few more moments before his back started to hurt. He couldn't lean against the counter anymore, so he took his tea to the living room and kicked his feet up. Eventually, he got tired of being on the phone and turned to his television instead. He couldn't get a television service because they required credit checks and he didn't want to chance it, so he had a huge collection of DVD's.

 

He popped in the first season of Friends and watched himself into a nap.

 

-

 

 

_Harry,_

_Our baby is now the size of a sweet potato! I know how much you love sweet potatoes so I thought you'd find it funny. My doctor says the baby is about six and a half inches long, which doesn't seem like a lot. I feel like the baby is a lot bigger than I look. I keep telling the doctor I don't want to find out the gender until they're born, but it's getting harder and harder to resist, especially when I see them on the ultrasound screen._

_I've started to shop for them. I love buying little baby clothes. I bought a yellow one piece with grey stripes and grey pants to go with it. I figured it could work for either a boy or a girl. The only thing I haven't started to do yet is decorate their room. For some reason, deep down, I'm hoping that I won't be a permanent fixture here. I'm hoping you'll find me and bring us home, where we can decorate our own room for them, together._

_I'm really craving fish and chips lately. I've found this wonderful little shop though, and I frequent is so often that they've started to give me discounts. It reminds me of London._

_I've met some new people, but I stay close to myself. The less my name gets out, the better I sleep at night. They've been asking what I do, what my career is, and I haven't told them that I live off of the money I stole from you. There is no good way to put that, so I've been telling them that I inherited quite a bit of money and they seem to believe me. That, and I tell them that I'm traveling the world, living in all sorts of different places._

_If you could see me now, you'd be amazed. Maybe. I've always thought that pregnancy drained the body, but it's doing the opposite to mine. I've still been working out, and my skin is glowing. Yes, the glow is true. And my hair is shinier and softer, too. You don't know what I'd do to have your hands playing with it._

_Now, to the not so good stuff. I think this baby is going to have your hair. I've been having some awful heartburn, and some headaches. But, it'll all be worth it. I know it will be. I'll forget all about this awful stuff when I hold them for the first time._

_I just wish you'd be here to hold them too._

_Xoxo Louis_

 

-

 

Harry surveyed the table in front of him, eyeing the stacks of cash on one end. Normally, he'd be having a smart-ass conversation with the poor schmuck who owed him, but he couldn't think of anything to say. He was so distracted lately and people could tell. Zayn, Ed, hell, even Louis' driver noticed, and it drove him to absolute insanity.

 

Why was he so hung up on Louis? He didn't care enough before, so why did he care now?

 

Beside him, Zayn cleared his throat into his fist. He was trying to subtly bring Harry back to the present. To the situation at hand. To the trembling man in front of him, quaking in his shoes. Crying.

 

"You can see that this is boring me, yes?" He asked the man, and he was answered with a frantically nodding head. "You can see that this is a clear waste of my time?"

 

"Yes sir." The man answered. His nose was running down into his mouth and Harry tried not to sneer.

 

"So why am I still giving you even a minute?" He sighed.

 

The man gestured with a shaking hand to the table. "I have the money, right here. You see it. I know it's not enough, but please."

 

Harry looked at the man sharply. "First, you waste my time, and now you're saying you don't have all of my money?" He asked, stepping closer. The man shrunk back in his chair and his lower lip trembled. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't put a bullet between your eyes right now."

 

That made the man cry harder. He sniveled some more. "Please." He wailed. "I did what I had to do. You don't understand. My wife just had a baby, we have no money. I did what I had to do."

 

Harry stomach swooped and he paused when he heard the man's excuse. It hit way too close to home for him, and he was starting to feel empathy towards the man, which was very dangerous. It was a weakness - one he couldn't afford.

 

"You're using your baby as an excuse because you're a piece of shit." He said, malice dripping from each word. "You're a pathetic excuse of a human being, practically worthless. Your wife and child are better off without you. What do you think they'd say if they ever found out what you did?"

 

The man only cried, sobbing with his head hanging down. His head was bobbing up and down with the force of his sobs. He was agreeing with Harry.

 

"You have thirty days to get me the rest of my money or you'll wash up on the Thames." He looked to Nick and nodded towards the door. He turned just as Nick hauled the man out of the chair and pushed him towards the door, sneering into his ear. It was Harry's job to demand the money, but it was Nick's job to make the person feel like the scum of the earth as they were leaving.

 

Harry leaned against the table and closed his eyes. He was angry. He was angry at the man for thinking he could get out of paying up, he was angry at Louis for thinking that he could leave and never return.

 

"Boss?" Nick asked from behind him. He could hear the hesitancy in his voice, and he hated it. Everyone was hesitant around him now. He knew they watched his every move. Like he was a ticking time bomb that could do something irrational any moment.

 

He straightened up and turned. "Yes?"

 

"Liam is on the phone. Says he has something."

 

Nick had barely finished speaking before Harry was pushing past him and heading up the stairs. He took them two at a time until he was on the second floor of his house. He headed straight to the library, where Liam had set up shop. He pushed the heavy oak doors open.

 

Liam looked up at him. "That was quick." He commented.

 

"What is it?" Harry ignored his racing heart and rounded the desk, coming to stand next to Liam. He saw many numbers and locations on Liam's computer screen and got hopeful.

 

"I think I've got something." Liam told him, sounding equally optimistic. "He logged into his Instagram account."

 

Harry paused. "Wait, that's it? That's all you've found?"

 

"There's more." Liam pointed to his computer screen. "I traced the login, and it came from a cellphone somewhere in the Netherlands."

 

"You can't figure out where in the Netherlands?" Harry asked. "I mean, there's seventeen million people who live in the Netherlands. Fuck." He raked a hand through his hair and stepped away.

 

"At least we have some idea." Liam defended. "It's not much but it's a start. You underestimate how easy it will be to narrow things down."

 

"I need you to find his exact location. Latitude and longitude." Harry demanded. "I don't have times for games."

 

Liam looked up at him. "Listen, Harry. He's got a phone, and he's using his apps. Once he sends a message, I can trace it to a more remote location. I'll be able to get you a city, maybe a street address."

 

"Do what you have to do, Liam."

 

Liam studied him. His look was so intense that it made his skin crawl. It made him feel like he was on display, or in an exhibit at the zoo.

 

"What?" He snapped.

 

"Are you okay?" Liam asked. "I mean, are you in the right state of mind? If you're not, I'm not doing this anymore. But you're letting this consume you, Harry. Your sleep patterns and your eating habits are irregular. You snap at everyone, you've driven off most of the help."

 

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying, Liam?"

 

"I'm saying that your behavior is scary." Liam said bluntly. "And I'm not so sure I want to help you when you're like this."

 

Harry sank down slowly into the plush chair directly adjacent to his desk. "Liam. You are the only person I can trust with this. I have to find him."

 

Liam's shoulders slumped. "Harry. He left. Why do you want to find him? Your last words to him were that you were going to kill him."

 

Harry looked up sharply. "I was getting arrested! He tipped off the police."

 

Liam frowned, almost like he didn't believe Harry. "You two had been dating for five years. You didn't trust him? You shared a bed with him, you shared a life with him. You two were on the fast track to marriage."

 

"I was never going to marry him." Harry said, but it didn't sound as convincing as he wanted it. And the look on Liam's face told Harry that he wasn't buying it.

 

"He's pregnant, for God's sake, Harry." Liam said.

 

"That's why I have to find him." Harry shouted. He was almost emotional, and Liam thought that Harry was about to confide in him, to say something deep about his love for Louis, but boy, was he wrong. 

 

"God only knows we don't need another me running around." Harry said darkly, schooling his features. "I need to solve this problem before it  _becomes_ a problem. And then, I need to take care of Louis. No one gets me arrested and lives to see another day." 

 

Liam sat back in his chair. He was scared to say anything at that point. He'd never heard Harry talk like that about Louis. It was Harry unhinged. 

 

When Liam didn't say anything for a few long minutes, Harry stood, nostrils flaring. "Find him, Liam. I fucking mean it. Do whatever it takes."

 

Liam nodded. "How legal do you want it?" He  finally relented.

 

"I don't." Was Harry's answer. "Do whatever you have to do. Just find him."

 

-

 

_Harry,_

_I'm currently twenty-one weeks with our banana baby! They're the size of a large banana, or so my doctor says. Our baby is growing bigger everyday, and my belly is so cute. My doctor is surprised that I don't have any stretch marks yet. She doesn't believe me when I say I'm not taking any preventative measures to avoid them. I've taken a picture of my belly every week, so you'll be able to see the progress. I think it'll make you happy._

_Now, onto me. I'm eating everything I see, I think. I eat all the time! I get up in the middle of the night just to snack. I wish you were here to stay up with me. I know you would. You could sit with me while I eat everything in sight. You'd probably cook for me. Or at least wake up the chef to cook for me. As much as I love Tara's cooking, I love yours even more. Why did you never cook for me? I wish that you had._

_My belly is getting bigger by the day! I am so excited to look at it every morning. Or when I lay in bed, I like to trace my fingers up and down it. I haven't felt the baby move yet, but I like to think that they like it. I talk to them, too. I tell them about you. I think they like you. I do, at least. Maybe. Time will tell. But, if the baby comes out looking like you, I'll hate you forever._

_Xoxo Louis_

 

Louis signed his name and closed his notebook. He slid it in his bag and crossed his feet at his ankles. He was sitting on a bench near the canal, watching the boats float by. He absolutely loved sitting there. He could close his eyes and take a deep breath and for once, not have the sounds and smells of London cloud his senses. Not that he didn't miss London, but with each passing day, it became easier and easier to love Amsterdam. 

 

His stomach rumbled, and he internally did a happy dance. He'd found a delicious little Chinese restaurant, which was his newest craving. It was also his most luxurious craving, and he had to spend extra time at the gym just to work it off. But it was worth it. 

 

He got his Chinese food and headed back to his apartment, keying himself in behind an elderly woman with a paper bag of groceries. He held the door for her and made his way up. In his flat, he locked the door behind him and headed to the kitchen. He had just sat his bag of food on the table when his phone dinged. 

 

He paused. He hadn't had any notifications since he got his phone, just out of sheer paranoia. His stomach swooped as he reached for his phone. He bit his lip and turned it over, sighing in relief when it was just an alert telling him to back his storage up. He sat his phone down and washed his hands, staring out the window. 

 

Why did he feel so weird? He was hoping that maybe, just maybe it was Harry. Not even a text message, maybe an alert, telling him that Harry had posted on Instagram. Just something that told him Harry was alive and well. Missing him. Leaving his line of work to buy a house in the country for their family. 

 

He turned the tap off and dried his hands. He sat the dish towel down and rubbed his belly. He needed to stop wanting and wishing for Harry. He left a bad situation for the sake of his baby, the baby that Harry wanted to get rid of. The baby that Harry didn't even give a chance. Harry was going to destroy Louis' life and not even blink. He was ashamed that he missed Harry. 

 

He shook his head and turned back to his food. As if to remind him, his belly fluttered, and he smiled. He knew that it was more than likely grumbling brought on by his hunger, but he liked to think that he could finally feel his baby move. 

 

He grabbed a fork out of the drawer and assembled a plate of food before heading to his living room. He kicked his feet up and sighed heavily. It felt nice to get off of his feet. He was trying to avoid swollen ankles at all costs. He hadn't yet been able to avoid leg cramps, which really woke him up in the dead of night. 

 

But, he ate a bite of food and glanced at his belly. It was all worth it. 

 

-

 

On his twenty-fifth week, Louis broke down and called Niall. He missed his friend dearly, and he was at an emotional stage of his pregnancy. He was suffering from restless leg and cried at everything and ate everything still and missed Harry's warm body next to his. 

 

He panicked a little bit before he dialed the number he knew by heart, but once Niall picked up, with a hesitant "Hello?", he began bawling his eyes out. He took a few deep breaths before speaking, quietly. Just in case Harry was listening in on his line. Again, his paranoia. 

 

"Louis?" Niall exclaimed. "Holy fuck. Louis!" 

 

"Sh!" He inhaled sharply, wiping at his nose. "Harry..." 

 

"Oh, fuck." Niall mumbled, and Louis heard the clicking of a lock on the other end. "I forgot about him. Where the hell are you? What happened?" 

 

"Did you lock yourself in a room?" He asked, smiling. He sank further into his couch and kicked his feet up. He rolled his ankles and stretched his calves. He was so drained of energy that he stopped working out, and instead cut back to walking more every day. 

 

Niall huffed. "Yes. You said his name and I got paranoid." 

 

"A feeling I know all too well." Louis replied. 

 

"Answer me, Louis. Where did you go?" Niall asked again. "What happened? Did Harry hurt you?" Niall's voice took on a threatening tone, and Louis was surprised. His friend usually showed only two emotions: happy and happier. 

 

"No, he didn't hurt me." Louis assured him. "I left. I had to." 

 

"Leaving is when you say goodbye." Niall said, a little harshly. "You didn't say goodbye. You left in the middle of the night like a criminal." 

 

"I know. I'm sorry. But I had to leave, Niall." He pulled at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt.

 

"Why?" Was the next anticipated question. 

 

So, Louis drew a deep breath and let the words tumble out of his mouth. There was no stopping him, and with each word he said, he felt the tightness in his chest grow smaller and smaller, and the weight around his shoulders lessened considerably. The only thing that grew was the lump in his throat. When he was done, Niall was silent. So silent that he had to pull his phone away from his ear just to make sure they were still connected. 

 

"Are you still there?" He asked, swallowing hard. 

 

It took Niall a few more moments to answer. "Yes. I'm just...speechless." 

 

Louis snorted. "I figured as much. I'm really sorry I left, Niall." 

 

"I know. It sucks that you had to resort to that but I understand." Niall said. "But I'll kill the bastard for ya." 

 

"No!" Louis shouted. "Sorry, Niall. But Harry can't know where I am." 

 

"I thought you told me you missed him?" Niall questioned. 

 

"I do. But I'm afraid of what might happen if he comes here." Louis admitted. He chewed on his bottom lip nervously. It was a habit he'd picked up around his twentieth week, and he'd bitten his lip raw before just thinking of the future. 

 

"He would never hurt you." Niall said. "As much as I hate to admit it, he wouldn't. I hate him but I can honestly say that." 

 

Louis hummed. He knew Harry would never hurt him  _intentionally_. There were so many times when Harry had hurt him, either with a comment that he didn't think twice about, or petty little fights, and was so remorseful afterwards. Harry had never, ever lifted a hand to him to hurt him. Harry was cold and hard on the outside, and soft touches and warm kisses on the inside. 

 

"Let's change the subject." He said. "What have you been up to?" 

 

"I don't want to talk about me." Niall said. "Let's talk about that baby. Do you know what you're having? You left when you were fourteen weeks? What would that make you now?" Niall tried to do the math in his head, but quickly gave up. 

 

"I'm keeping it a surprise. Although I want to ask every appointment I have." He giggled. "And I'm twenty-five weeks." 

 

"Holy shit." Niall breathed. "Twenty-five weeks! I'm gonna be an uncle!" 

 

Niall sounded so excited and positive and it made him tear up a little bit. It was nice to have someone to share in his happiness. For eleven weeks, he'd been by himself, with no one to talk to about his pregnancy or how beautiful Amsterdam was. 

 

"Maybe when it's born you can come and see us." He suggested. "We can just sit on my couch and stare at them." 

 

"I would love that more than anything." Niall gushed. "I've always wanted to go to - " 

 

"Don't say it!" Louis interrupted. "Just in case...you know. In case they're listening." 

 

"You're really paranoid." Niall said. "I'm sure he's not tapping your phone calls. Does he even know you have a phone?" 

 

"I don't know. I've been really careful with it. No social media, nothing." He sad. "So you can buy your plane ticket here and I'll give you the cash when you get here." 

 

"You absolutely don't have to do that." Niall protested. "I want to see you more than you want to see me." 

 

"It was my idea." Louis reminded him. 

 

Niall clicked his tongue. "Anyway, when is your due date?" 

 

"December thirteenth." He answered happily. "A winter baby. I'm so excited." 

 

"Aw! You're a winter baby too!" Niall exclaimed. "How are the winters in Amsterdam? Do any research on them? Just so you know what you're getting yourself into." 

 

"I did. You know me, I love to research things." He laughed. "But it's a toss-up, really. It can be below freezing with snow or sunny and rainy. I'm sort of hoping for sunny. I don't want to haul a newborn around in a cab in the snow." 

 

Niall made a noise of agreement. "I understand. Now, let's talk about me coming to visit." 

 

-

 

Harry grinned and raised two fingers in the direction of Svetlana, his favorite waitress at Ultraviolent. She nodded back at him, knowing exactly what he wanted; a simple rum and coke, and a round of tequila shots for the people he was currently impressing with his charm. 

 

"Harry!" David Lester, a seedy man with slicked back hair and sinister smile. He waved Harry over to his side of the square table, where there were four lines cut in front of him. He gestured to them. "Would you like a hit?" 

 

Harry shook his head and glanced to his right. He made eye contact with Josef, one of his bigger, burlier men. Josef was one of his more reliable associates, and turned to pull the curtain of the VIP room closed. 

 

Harry didn't allow drugs in his club, as violent and criminal as he may be. He never touched the stuff and didn't want it to define his club. And he was about to let David Lester know exactly what he thought. 

 

"No thanks, David." He clapped the man on the back of his Italian suit. "I don't get high on my own supply." 

 

David shrugged and leaned forward. When he had sucked up two lines, he leaned back and shook his head. "Neither do I, but this shit is good. You may have found yourself a new business partner." 

 

Harry furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sorry?" Maybe the thrumming bass of the music warped his hearing. He really needed to get soundproof walls for his VIP area. 

 

"Business partner!" David repeated, louder. "I think we could work brilliantly together, Harry. We could turn the crime world inside out." He leaned towards Harry, like he had a secret, but made a show of it. "Let me tell you something. I have girls that would make the king legalize prostitution." 

 

"Excuse you?" No more charming Harry. He'd invited David as a nicety, to keep his mind off of Louis and to butter David up, so that when Harry told him he was taking control of all of David's assets, he wouldn't get upset. 

 

But that was all over. 

 

David blinked. His beady eyes were blown wide and rimmed in red. He was a disgrace. "You heard me! Trafficking! I have one of the biggest rings in London. But between you and me, I'm looking to expand into some American girls, boys too. We all like a little variety, right?" He turned to the table of three other people, who were watching in quiet anticipation. 

 

David grabbed his glass and toasted, and that was the last straw for Harry. He gripped the back of David's neck and slammed his head onto the table. He bent over, mouth right next to David's ear, and whispered. 

 

"Wrong," He said quietly and menacingly. "I was trying to be nice, David. But you're such a pathetic leech that I've decided you don't deserve my niceties. So here's what's going to happen. I'm going to seize all of your goods and your people are now my people. You will earn approximately zero of whatever I make, and your trafficking is done. And if you're lucky, I won't kill you." 

 

David spat and sputtered, struggling to get up, but Harry clamped his hand even tighter around David's neck. 

 

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" David shouted. "You're just a punk kid! I bet you still need your mummy to protect you!" 

 

"Keep talking, David." He warned. 

 

David flailed his arms out and knocked over several tequila shots. Liquid fell onto Harry's boots. 

 

"You say I'm pathetic?" David continued. "You're pathetic! Don't think we don't know about your little toy running away from you! What's'a matter, Harry? Can't keep him satisfied so he had to run away? He - " 

 

In one swift, barely detectable movement, Harry sighed, rolled his eyes, and pulled a small handgun from the waistband of his suit pants. He pressed it against David's temple and pulled the trigger, not even flinching. 

 

Luckily, no one was sitting to David's right, and the mess of blood and brain matter would be easy enough to clean up. He handed the gun to Josef, who tucked it away and hauled David's body out through a hidden door. 

 

Harry turned, leaving the stunned guests at the table to stare at the mess. He pushed through the curtain and weaved his way through the crowd. He paused and let his eyes scan through the mass of bodies, until he found who he was looking for. 

 

The police commissioner. 

 

They made eye contact and he nodded. The police commissioner pulled out his phone, ignoring the two ladies on either side of him, and held it up to his ear. Once the call had been made, Harry turned back around and found Nick. They were still on tense terms, even after the weeks passed, but Harry couldn't ignore that Nick was his number two. 

 

He jerked his head and Nick nodded. That was his signal that he was ready to go. He weaved back through the crowd, ignoring the people who tried to stop him to flirt or network. He just wanted to get home, to see if Liam had found anymore about Louis. 

 

-

 

Harry was in his office, collecting a few things before he left, when he heard shouting down the hall. He barely glanced up and instead chose to wait until the ruckus made it to his door, which it did. His door swung open, and he peered up. 

 

"Goddammit, Styles!" It was the police commissioner, red in the face and gripping his tumbler of scotch. "Another one? What is your problem? You're making it harder to cover up for you." 

 

"Good evening, Mr. Hanson." He chose to say. "I trust all is well on your end?" 

 

Mr. Hanson collapsed in the chair directly in front of Harry's desk and rubbed his forehead. "Styles. You'd better make damn sure no one is going to miss this one." 

 

"Please." Harry scoffed and sat himself down. "No one is going to miss that cretin." 

 

Mr. Hanson finished off his scotch and eyed Harry. It was easy for Harry to buy him off for his silence. A couple of kids's uni tuition's, a new house, a few cars, and he was good. 

 

"Now," Harry waved to someone down the hall. "Allow me to take care of your bar tab tonight, and every other night, yes?" 

 

A slow grin crawled across Hanson's face. "Now we're talking." 

 

-

 

Louis crossed his feet at the ankles and looked up at the ceiling. His belly was covered in goo and the ultrasound technician was trying to find the best angle for his baby. Normally, he'd be watching her do so. He took every opportunity he could to see his baby, but today, he was so emotional and overwhelmed and sad that he couldn't look yet. 

 

"You've got a wiggly little baby, Mr. Tomlinson." The tech said, smiling over at him. She'd been his tech every since he arrived in Amsterdam, and they've built a good rapport. She didn't know his whole situation and didn't dare ask, but little by little, he'd tell her one thing or another, and she could sort of draw her own conclusion. 

 

He laughed a little and finally looked over. He wiggled his toes, a movement to match his baby. "Are they moving a lot?" 

 

"You can't feel that?" She laughed, pointing to the screen. "They're having a dance party in your belly."

 

"I really can't feel it." He said sadly. 

 

"That's nothing to worry about." The tech assured him. "Your baby is very healthy, but small. No big baby for you!" 

 

That made him feel a little bit better. So he wasn't completely fucking up his baby's life before they were even born. "Good. How big are they?" 

 

The tech hummed and focused on the baby's face, taking some pictures. "I'd estimate just under two pounds. But very healthy." 

 

"Oh. The website I use says they'd be around two pounds anyway." He told her. He checked his pregnancy app religiously. It was one of the of the only things he could do on his cell phone that wouldn't give his location away. 

 

The tech finally sat the wand down and handed him some paper towels to wipe his belly off with. "Those websites are great, but they can cause a lot of worry, especially with first time parents. Don't panic if it says this and you're experiencing that, okay?" She advised. 

 

"Yes." He nodded. He wasn't too worried. "Is that maybe why I haven't felt them kick?" 

 

"It very well could be." The tech told him. "But I suspect you'll be feeling them very shortly." 

 

That made him marginally happier. With the passing weeks, and growing belly, he should be feeling excited about the baby. But the looming birth and the idea of him doing it all on his own was scary. He'd always lay in bed, with Harry fast asleep behind him, and dream of having a baby to raise with Harry. Sharing responsibilities with Harry, taking family portraits and Christmas mornings and pancakes on Sunday mornings with Harry. 

 

He was certain he could do it by himself, that's not what he was so upset about. It was that he'd always pictured Harry with him, and now his whole idea was changing so fast. He wasn't married to Harry, he was on the  _run_ from Harry, living in a strange but slightly comforting city, grocery shopping and taking yoga classes without Harry. Without Niall. Without any familiar faces. 

 

It was going to suck, but he could do it. He was strong and independent and he would be a great mother. 

 

-

 

  _Dear Harry,_

_Ten weeks to go!!!!! It's unbelievable. I'm in such awe of my belly right now. It is the most perfect little bump. The doctor told me our baby is a little over 16 inches and a little over three pounds. I can feel them rolling around in there. They like to kick me awake at night, but that's okay. I get up and we eat something and go back to sleep. I think they'll have your ravenous appetite. I think they'll have a ton of hair, too._

_The only thing I despise about pregnancy is the swollen ankles. My feet hurt so bad. I'm thinking that I'll treat myself soon and go get a massage somewhere before I go into labor. I'm tired all the time, too. I nod off on the couch all the time. I'm just lucky I haven't done so at the park or something. That would just be embarrassing._

_I keep thinking of the day I get to give you this book. Maybe it will be a happy day. Or maybe you'll find it in my belongings after you actually kill me. Just...whatever you do, make sure our baby is safe. I don't see you as the type to raise them, and you've got no family to raise them. You probably wouldn't want family to raise them anyway. You'd probably hate the sight of them. I hate to think that. It breaks my heart, but if I'm dead, I really have no say in what you do. Just take care of them. You know what I mean._

_Anyway, I'm getting very emotional so I'm going to stop writing this. I truly hope that when I see you again, it's a happy affair._

_xoxo Louis_

 

Crying was something that he did on the daily now. He cried at sad commercials, he cried at the baby ducks he saw on his daily walks, he cried when his market was out of chocolate scones. He cried at night, when he rolled over to cuddle up with Harry and realized that he wasn't there. He cried when he shopped for baby items. He cried when he looked at his phone and realized he missed Harry and wanted to call him. 

 

He made himself feel marginally better by telling himself that it was just the baby hormones. He didn't really miss Harry, and he told himself over and over again that Harry wanted him dead. Harry was actively searching the globe just so he could find him and kill him. Harry didn't want this baby and was going to do what he had to do to ensure that he would never have to see the baby. 

 

Louis tucked his notebook and pen inside the table drawer next to the couch and rubbed his belly. If Harry had sense, or wasn't so impulsive, he'd wait until the baby was born and go back to Harry's, just to show him the innocent little infant. To convince him that the baby was a good thing. A happy little accident but loved nonetheless. He was sure that if Harry looked into their baby's eyes, he would change his mind. 

 

The only problem with that? Harry might end up killing him anyway and doing God-knows-what with the baby. Adoption, maybe? Or the black market. Babies were high on the black market, bought by wealthy couples who couldn't conceive. Harry knew people. He had connections. One phone call and he could have their baby flying off to America or Germany or Australia or Canada or wherever to live with complete strangers. 

 

He pulled out the notebook again and added,  _If you black-market sell our baby, please please PLEASE make sure the family who buys them aren't crazy. Make sure they want a baby to love and cherish, not to have as an accessory. Also, I know you won't want to do this, but keep tabs on them too. Every few years or so just make sure our baby is happy._

 

When he was done, he tilted his head back and looked up at the ceiling. His stomach hurt and his heart hurt, both for very different but very similar reasons. 

 

-

 

 At thirty-five weeks, Louis was probably the most uncomfortable he had ever been in his life. His belly had reached peak size, perfectly round and cute. His baby weighed a hundred pounds and his back hurt all the time. He dreaded his nightly walks, but still took them to keep his legs from cramping up. He made minimal trips to the market and tried to eat as healthy as possible, just in case.

 

His doctor appointments were every week now, and his baby had turned and was waiting for birth. He was waiting for birth, too. He was ready to be rid of the heavy weight around his middle and he wanted to meet his baby. He was so excited. 

 

He'd finally finished the nursery, which was the smallest bedroom down the hallway. It was painted mint green, with a picture window with a bright white trim. There was a beautiful white bassinet against one wall, and there was a changing table against the opposite wall. A plush rocking chair with ottoman was by the window, so that he could look out of it while he rocked his baby. He still hadn't bought a lot of baby clothes, just a few little white and gray and green and yellow outfits and socks. 

 

He spent a lot of time in the nursery, vacuuming the carpeted floor and making sure it was nice for his baby. He wanted it to be perfect. He wanted his baby to have nothing but a perfect life. 

 

-

 

Louis went into labor at thirty-eight weeks. He was cleaning his kitchen, which was already sparkling clean, when he was hit with an intense cramp and had to lean against the counter top. He breathed through it and when another one hit after eight minutes, he put his cleaning supplies away and waddled over to where his phone was on the charger. He grabbed it, slid his shoes on, and grabbed his hospital bag. 

 

He breathed through the walk to his front door, grabbed his coat, and locked the door behind him. On his way down the elevator, he called for a cab, which he didn't have to wait long for. When he saw it pull up outside, he waved to the desk attendant and headed out into the cold, frosty air. 

 

At the hospital, he paid the cab driver and headed inside. Check in was a breeze, and his doctor was there to meet him, smiling brightly. She looked at her watch. 

 

"Ready to go?" She tucked her hands inside of her white coat. From there, it was a whirlwind of getting to his room, changing into a gown, giving a blood sample, and being poked and prodded. There was another ultrasound and some nurses filtered in and out, monitoring his contractions.

 

"You rest," His doctor advised. "Because while we're doing all of the work now, it'll be your turn soon." 

 

"How soon do you think?" He asked, leaning back against the pillows. 

 

"You're three centimeters dilated right now." She said. "Your labor is progressing quickly. I'm assuming sometime in the early morning." She looked at her watch again. "Maybe before midnight. Who knows? Babies can surprise us." 

 

He nodded. "Until then?" 

 

"Sleep." She emphasized. "You're going to need it." 

 

-

 

Harry was staring down at his grilled chicken when the door to his office flung open and Liam entered, clutching a piece of paper and smiling widely. He slammed the door behind him and sat across from Harry. He slid the piece of paper across the desk. 

 

"Finally." He said. "Here you go." 

 

Harry pushed his plate aside and lifted up the piece of paper. He scanned it, eyes widening when he processed what it said. "Hospital record?" He looked up at Liam. "You found him?" 

 

"Finally." Liam nodded. "Don't ask how, but when he checked into the hospital for labor, that's when it finally flagged in the system I had." 

 

Harry scanned the sheet for an address. "Amsterdam." He said. "Home address is listed too." 

 

Liam grinned. "Told you I'd find him." 

 

Harry pushed himself away from the desk and stood. "Yeah, and it only took you nine months." He replied sarcastically. He made it to the door and opened it before realizing Liam was still standing there. "Are you coming or not?" 

 

"To where?" 

 

Harry wanted to roll his eyes. Why didn't he just hire someone else to find Louis? Because Liam was his friend, that's why. His dumb friend. His dumb friend who has stuck beside him through everything. A treasured friend. "To Amsterdam." 

 

-

 

 "It's cold, baby, I know." Louis cooed, turning the key to his apartment door. He glanced down at his car seat, which held his sleeping baby. Each sight of his little baby left him breathless. He was so in love. "At least it wasn't snowing when we left, though." 

 

He opened the apartment door and hurried inside. He locked the door behind him and headed towards the living room, where he sat on the couch and pulled his fussy baby from the carrier. 

 

"My little love." He held his baby to his chest and rocked back and forth. "Why are we so upset? We've just eaten and had a nappy change. What more could you possibly want?" He leaned back and closed his eyes. The baby was settling and he could use a nap himself. He was exhausted. In the day and a half he'd been in the hospital, he'd gotten minimal sleep. He was proud of himself, though. His labor was quick, only three hours, and it was an easy and uncomplicated delivery. 

 

With his eyes closed, he kicked his feet up and rubbed his baby's back. The only sound coming from them was little sniffles and snuffles. And since the doctor had recommended that he sleeps when the baby sleeps, he had no problem dozing off. 

 

-

 

Louis was standing in the nursery, rocking his baby back and forth slowly in his arms, humming and singing quietly, when he heard his front door bust open. He nodded his head. He was expecting it. 

 

"That must be daddy." He sang quietly. He stepped over to the picture window and glanced out of it. As the weather had called for, a light dusting of snow was falling gently over the city. It was calm and peaceful and beautiful. It was every reason he'd fallen in love with the city. 

 

Behind him, the door to the nursery opened with a creak - he really had meant to get that fixed - and he heard footsteps walk down the hallway slowly. The sound echoed, and if he didn't know who it was, he'd be terrified. But for the past few months, he'd been anticipating this, and he felt prepared enough. Almost excited. He'd missed Harry terribly. 

 

The footsteps stopped, and he knew that they were now walking onto the carpet. A few beats later, he felt the presence behind him. He closed his eyes to mentally prepare himself. His heart was racing faster, but he was ready. He was ready to face what he'd run from. 

 

He looked down at his baby and turned, where he was met with the cool metal of a pistol, pressing right against his forehead. He wanted to roll his eyes. How theatrical of Harry. Instead, he looked up into the green eyes he'd missed. 

 

"This is Emmett." He said to the very stoic Harry in front of him. "Put the gun down and hold your son."  

 

He stood toe-to-toe with Harry, gun still pressed against his head, but wasn't afraid. In that moment, he'd realized how stupid he was to be afraid. Harry wouldn't hurt him. He could see it in his eyes, as angry as they were. As steady as Harry's hand was, and as lethal as his aim was. 

 

"Put the baby down." Harry finally spoke. "And leave the room." 

 

It was then, hearing Harry's emotionless voice, that Louis got a little scared. Had he been wrong a few moments ago? Was Harry really going to kill them both? Or just him. Oh God, his baby was going to get sold to some German couple who wore fur and hated children. This was it. The last moments he'd ever have with his son. 

 

He turned again, proud of himself for not showing emotion, and kissed his son on the forehead. He laid him down carefully, as not to wake up, and turned once more to face Harry. It was time for a brave face and a different tactic. 

 

"He likes it when you rub his cheek." He told Harry. He glanced at the two men on either side of the door before stepping out of the nursery. His heart was already breaking, being so far away from his baby, but it was something he had to do if he ever wanted peace with Harry again. 

 

By the time he reached the kitchen, he was almost in tears. All of his emotions were catching up to him. He seated himself at the breakfast nook and laid his head in his hands. He would wait there, as long as it took. 

 

-

 

"Leave me." Harry didn't turn around to address the two men that he'd brought with him. They listened, though, and soon he heard the door close. When he was alone, he tucked the gun into his waistband and approached the bassinet. Inside of it laid the scariest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 

 

His future. 

 

Inside the bassinet was sleepless nights and colic and dirty nappies and piles of laundry, and school plays and footie games and science fairs and sleepovers and birthday parties and Christmases and cuddles and unconditional love. It was a house in the country and siblings and camping and family vacations. It was marriage. It was hope. It was everything he'd ever wanted but never knew. 

 

It was scary. And real. And it was  _there_ , right in front of him, sleeping peacefully, with little fists against chubby cheeks, and pouty red lips and long eyelashes and dark hair and kicking feet. 

 

 _He_ was there because his mother was smart enough to leave. He was smart enough to leave an unsure Harry and an unpredictable life. He was smart enough to know that Harry would get his shit together. And he would finally get his shit together when he was face to face with the one creature that already had his heart under lock and key. The one creature he would die a thousand deaths for.

 

And he hadn't even seen his eyes yet. He hadn't even seen him awake, and already he was ready to do anything. 

 

He stepped closer to the bassinet, resting his hands on the edge of it. He peered down at the baby,  _Emmett_ , and watched as he kicked one foot out before snuffling. He dropped to his knees and put his hand on Emmett's tummy. Watching and feeling the rise and fall of his tummy put everything into perspective. 

 

How could he have not wanted this? Why did he fight this so hard? He could have never turned this baby away, or hated it. He loved every ounce of his baby, from his ten little fingers to his ten little toes. 

 

He felt like such a fool. Everything could have been avoided if he'd just gotten his head out of his arse. He could have been with Louis through every pregnancy symptom. He could have been there for doctors appointments and sleepless nights and cravings and mood swings. He could have been there for the delivery, watching as Emmett was brought into this world. 

 

He wished he could have seen the look on Louis' face when he first saw Emmett. 

 

In the bassinet, Emmett's face scrunched up and he kicked his legs. His little eyes opened and he looked grumpy. His little nose twitched and his fists swung up and down. Harry was quick to stand and pick him up. 

 

"It's quite alright," He assured in a low, soothing voice. "You need not cry anymore. Daddy is here now, and we've got some catching up to do." 

 

-

 

Louis rubbed his face and drank down the last of his tea. Harry had been alone with Emmett for over an hour and he was getting to the point where he was going to burst in save his baby. He was fighting exhaustion and wanted sleep, but he'd be damned if he fell asleep until he knew what Harry was doing. 

 

He put his head in his hands and had to blink his heavy eyes open more than a few times. He was quite literally on the verge of falling asleep when he jumped awake by Harry's voice. 

 

"You shouldn't fight sleep." 

 

He jumped and stood. Harry was leaning in the doorway, no baby in sight. 

 

"Where is - " 

 

"He's asleep." Harry answered. "Where he will stay." 

 

Louis put a hand to his chest and stared at Harry. "Do you..." He started, but had no idea how to finish the sentence. 

 

"Love him?" Harry finished for him, fiddling with his shirt sleeve. "Quite a lot." 

 

A huge weight was lifted off of Louis' shoulders when he heard that, and he visibly relaxed. "But you didn't. Before." He said. 

 

"That was before. Like you just said." Harry raised an eyebrow. He was so cocky standing there, and Louis wanted nothing more than to kiss him. 

 

"We fought about it." He said weakly. 

 

"Ah, yes." Harry stepped further into the kitchen. "You threw wine bottles at me. You put on a spectacular show, love." Harry looked impressed, and full of love. 

 

Louis looked at him, and he looked at Louis. They stood in silence, just drinking each other in. Harry was in one of his nicer outfits, and he was wearing leggings and a shirt he'd stolen from Harry before he left. With each passing second, he wondered just how he'd managed to live without Harry for so long. 

 

Harry broke the silence eventually. "You insist on standing all the way over there." He said. "And you're dead on your feet." 

 

"I couldn't sleep. I was thinking - I was just thinking." He said, shifting from one foot to the other. 

 

"You've just birthed my child. You need your rest." Harry held his hand out. "And I need to lay with you. I've missed your body against mine terribly." 

 

Louis took his hand and gripped it tightly. He was ready to sleep and Harry was ready to spend the rest of his life with him. 

 

-

epilogue 

 

By the time Louis reached the top of the stairs, he was out of breath. He would be a little embarrassed but he blamed it on the fact that he was carrying a full laundry basket, not because he was eight months pregnant. He gripped the solid wooden banister and watched as Emmett came toddling down the hallway, clutching a toy dinosaur and absolutely naked. 

 

"Stop that baby," Harry hollered from the bathroom, and seconds later, he came jogging out, shirt soaked with water and hair pushed back with a bandanna. He paused to give Louis a kiss. "We'll talk later on how you're not supposed to be carrying that up the stairs." 

 

"Sure we will." Louis giggled. "Go find my naked baby." 

 

Harry saluted and went off in search of Emmett, who at almost two years old, was giving Harry a run for his money. Louis continued on his way to the master bedroom. He'd gotten his farmhouse in the country, with sprawling land where his children could play. He'd gotten a ring on his finger and a wedding and happiness. Harry had officially quit what he was doing, cold turkey. 

 

They were finally living the life that Louis wanted and Harry fought so hard against. Both had found peace and they were closer than ever. Every night in bed, Harry would draw him close and rub his belly and whisper, "I can't believe I didn't want this. What was I thinking?". Sometimes they'd talk about the future. Sometimes they'd talk about the past. Sometimes, they'd laugh at how Louis thought Harry was going to have their baby sold to a wealthy couple in Germany. 

 

He sighed and sat the laundry basket on the bed. Did he want to fold laundry or did he want to take a nap? He really should actually get up and help Harry find their son, who was probably still hiding. 

 

He opted for the latter and stood. He was in the doorway to their bedroom when Harry came marching down the hallway, Emmett thrown over his shoulder. The toddler was giggling loudly and Harry was grinning from ear to ear. 

 

Once more, Harry stopped to give Louis a kiss, but this time, he crouched down to address the baby bump. "Are you going to be as much trouble as this one?" He asked, raising his eyebrows. 

 

Louis laughed. "We can only hope." 

 

 

 

end 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cheesy as fuck ending


End file.
